The Compass
by Super Spazz Attack
Summary: A silly story about an interesting artifcat that fell through the rift...Jack/Gwen, a wee bit of Jack/Ianto, and a dash of Owen/Tosh. NOW FINISHED! FINALLY!
1. Heart's Desire

A/N: This isn't the first fanfic I've ever written...but it _is_ the first _Torchwood_ fic I've ever written. Don't mind any OOC-ness that might crop up. I'll do my best to keep it down, but no promises : )

Now...onwards with my one-shot of doom!

**Disclaimer**: Suing me will be a useless enterprise, since I already owe the government far too much money. So BBC and Mr. Davies, don't get all pissy because I'm borrowing your characters/show. You either, Disney. It's a harmless bit o' fun and should be treated as such.

**Spoilers**: Probably. It's definitely set in second season, because _Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang_ has been referenced. No other specific events have been mentioned, so use your imagination.

**Pairing**: Jack/Gwen (yes, I'm one of _those_ : ). Really, it's more like 'Jack/Every-Living-Thing-With-A-Post-Code', but for this story, I'm narrowing it down to Gwen. And possibly Ianto. With a dash of Owen/Tosh.

**Warning**: This story is complete cheese.

**Rating**: Is there one for 'a lame story that'll make your brain explode'? Because there should be. This would be it, if there were. Other than that...I think it merits a PG-13 or equivalent. Which is a T on ffdotnet, I believe...

**Author**: Super Spazz Attack. You may call me Spazz, if you like.

* * *

**The Compass**

When Gwen arrived at the Hub, there was a small brown object on her desk.

"This what we found yesterday?" she asked, picking it up. It was encased in worn, brown leather, and appeared to be a box: a line bisected it horizontally, there were hinges on the back, and the front was held closed by a small, tarnished clasp. The bottom of the box was smooth and roughly square. The corners had been shaved off to give it a more polygonal look, and the top bubbled upwards in a small dome.

"That would be it," Jack said as he strolled past Gwen and the others. "Give it a once over, would you?"

Holding her breath, Gwen opened the box. She had been worried that there might be something dangerous inside, even though she knew Tosh had scanned it to make sure before it was left with Gwen. The small hinges creaked as the lid fell back and revealed...

"It's a compass," Ianto remarked, pausing on his way through the Hub. He held in his hands a tray of mugs filled with steaming tea. He sounded somewhat surprised and disappointed that the box hadn't yielded anything more interesting than a worn compass.

Gwen smiled gratefully as Ianto handed her her favorite mug and she inhaled deeply the aroma of freshly brewed tea. She turned back to the compass. It's needle was idly turning, not pointing at anything.

"It's a broken compass," Gwen said flatly. "It doesn't even point north."

"Huh." Ianto continued on his way.

Because it had been a slow day, Gwen took the compass down to Archives herself, photographed it, tagged it and logged it in the catalogue. By now it was lunch time, so she brought the instrument with her up to the kitchen so she could make notes.

She was in the middle of noting that the interior of the compass lid was painted with a crude rendering of a night sky when the others came down for lunch. Jack was in the middle of a particularly raunchy story about some alien or other that he'd shagged – as usual. At least it hadn't been further elaborations on the vices and virtues of John Heart. That had been bad enough the first three times.

"So I said to him, 'Three? Are you sure? Well, we'll just have to try them all out!'"

Tosh burst into giggles, while Ianto and Owen exchanged resigned looks behind their boss's head.

The story continued. Gwen put down her pen and listened. It was certainly more interesting than taking notes about a broken compass. She wasn't even upset that her work had been interrupted by the ruckus.

Ianto took the seat to her right, Tosh to her left. Jack and Owen were sitting at the other end of the small rectangular table,

"So tell us about the compass," Jack said some time later, after his outrageous story had wound down.

"Nothing much to tell, really," Gwen said, savouring her second cup of tea. "Apart from that it's broken." She picked it up. "And this," she added turning the compass over.

Etched into the bottom was **PRPTY CPN. JACK**, followed by a crude drawing of a bird.

"Looks like it's yours," Gwen said with a grin. She flipped it back over. "And see that? It's even pointing at you."

"It's not mine," Jack said with a happy smile "I'm sure that there are plenty of Captain Jack Blobby-Bird's out there."

Everyone had a giggle at that.

"I think it's supposed to be a sparrow," Tosh said, squinting at it from her place on Gwen's left. There was a suggestion of a forked tail, but Gwen's arm was in the way and Tosh couldn't make it out.

"May I?" Ianto asked. Gwen handed it too him. Shaken loose, the needle spun a little. And then jerked around until it pointed back at Jack.

"Hey, Jack! You're magnetic!" Gwen said.

"It's my personality," Jack said, with mock gravity.

They all laughed. The pun was too good to pass up.

"Can I see?" Tosh asked when they had all calmed down a little. Ianto reached across Gwen and handed Tosh the instrument.

The needle spun lazily for a second and then did a rough, thirty degree turn. Everyone leaned over the table. Everyone frowned.. It was pointing at Owen.

"He's not the only magnetic one," Tosh said with a slightly forced grin. She put it down on the table. The needle resumed its lazy spin.

"That's odd," Owen said. He picked the compass up from where Tosh had left it. The needle swung again. Now it pointed to Tosh.

"I think it's off balance," Gwen ventured. She reached for it, and took it gently from Owen's hands. She shook it slightly. The needle spun in its lazy arc. She looked up at the others.

"I think it's..." A tingle ran through her, and she could almost feel it tugging her towards... The needle stopped. She looked down, but she already knew where it was pointing. It was pointing at Jack again, quivering from the effort of not flying off its bearings.

"Let me see," Jack said. He took the compass from Gwen.

The needle went wild.

"Fantastic," Jack murmured, unconsciously quoting his favourite Doctor. The needle continued its wild revolutions for nearly a minute before it began to slow. Another thirty seconds and it had begun to bounce back and forth from one point to another. Thirty seconds more, and the needle was pointing, ramrod straight, between those two points. Between Gwen and Ianto. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"I know what this does," Jack said smugly. He closed the compass with a snap and pocketed it.

"What does it do then, if it's not broken?" Gwen asked. "The only thing it's pointed at more than once was you."

Jack stood, and walked around the table until he stood between Gwen and Ianto. Placing one hand on each of their shoulders, he leaned down, putting his face close to each of their ears. He smiled again.

"The compass doesn't point north," he said in a husky whisper, "because it's not meant to _find_ north."

"What's it meant to find?" Tosh asked. She was already dreading the answer. Something in the feral way that Jack was grinning was making her hair stand on end.

"Your heart's desire," Jack said with a smirk as he straightened. He sauntered out of the kitchen, back to his office, hands in his pockets and humming in a clear tenor.

When Jack was gone, Gwen and Ianto turned and looked behind them. Tosh and Owen leaned over the table to see too. The needle had pointed directly between Gwen and Ianto, and everyone was curious to figure out precisely what was in that direction. Myfanwy's nest was much too high. They looked at one another again. Not even _Jack_ could be that horny.

Everyone sat down again.

It gradually dawned on each of them where the needle had been pointing when they had each held the compass.

They shared a look of panic, though the table bore the brunt of it.

"Well, I think I need to be getting back to work," Gwen announced, a little too loudly and a little too quickly. She pushed herself away from the table.

"Yes. Things to clean." Ianto said. He was watching Gwen with narrowed eyes, as if trying to sum her up. She caught him looking and his face flushed red. Gwen wasn't particularly concerned. Her own face was a matching colour and she was doing her best not to cast similar looks at Ianto herself. They practically had a race to see who could get out of the kitchen first. For the rest of the day, they circled one another like two strange cats, each unsure of where the other stood on matters of territoriality.

"And I've got that...thing...to log. With the CCTV and the time and the..." Tosh fled.

When they had all gone, Owen stared down at the table, where the compass had sat, and then up at Tosh's recently vacated chair.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. "I'm going soft."

* * *

Back in his office, Jack pulled the compass out of his pocket again and opened it. This was going to come in handy. He grinned. It probably even had more uses than Ianto's stopwatch.

* * *

A/N: Soooooo...good? Bad? Any awkward phrasing? Was it as funny as I was hoping it was? I'm guessing no...but hoping yes. Review and let me know... 


	2. Argh

A/N: Well...this _was_ going to be a one-shot. A one-shot of doom, meant as a bit of fun. And then I got such a wonderful set of reviews and requests for more, all within a couple of days of it being up, that I decided that I would be nice and expand it. I just hope I did the first chapter justice.

So to any and all who have reviewed...THANK YOU!!!!!! You all get cookies and hugs.

**Disclaimer**: It's in the first chapter, and it still applies.

**Rating**: I've upped it a little, on account of the descriptions of debauchery (nothing too bad, don't worry) and some minor swearing (which is in another language, but still counts). I know most thirteen-year-olds have heard worse...but whatever.

**Spoilers**: I've referenced 'Meat' a lot in this one, but mostly generalities.

**Warning**: This story is now cheese on crack. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Two: Argh**

The biggest question everyone faced was _what now_?

The compass had shown them what they wanted – their heart's desire. What they wanted most in the world, more than anything.

In two cases, this was the same person.

It certainly made for interesting dinner conversation. Or would have, if anyone had been up to discussing what the compass had shown them. After lunch, everyone had seemed content to remain in their own little worlds, and not discuss anything beyond the pleasantries of polite company.

Except Jack. He had been almost unbearably _normal _after lunch had ended. Grinning, and yammering about past boyfriends, and past girlfriends, and past gender-non-specific-friends, segueing into questions about rift activity and theories about why the rift was so quiet lately. There'd scarcely even been a Weevil attack.

But he never once mentioned the compass. He'd pull it out of his pocket from time to time, when everyone was looking and make a show of checking it. But then he'd close it with a smart click, put it back in his pocket and then act as though nothing was amiss.

He didn't even give it back to Gwen for further study or experimentation.

All of this was making Gwen a little irritable. Thankfully, she'd been able to go home early.

When Gwen had gotten home, after her incredibly tense day, she found Rhys waiting for her with her evening cup of tea and a quick kiss.

"You in tonight?" she asked her fiancé, after taking a sip of her tea.

"Nah," Rhys answered. "Daf and I are hittin' the pubs for a pint. Match tonight," he added by way of explanation.

Gwen smiled warmly. Rhys and Daf were so close they were practically brothers. In fact, Rhys had asked Daf to be his best man at the upcoming wedding, something that had not surprised Gwen at all.

Even so, for once Gwen was glad that she was home and Rhys was going out. She needed the time to think.

"How was work?" Rhys asked. "Catch any more int'restin' aliens?"

"No," Gwen said. "Simple day." Understatement of the century, that. She plastered a smile across her face.

"Good, good. When I get back tonight, you can tell me all about it."

She nodded, hoping that he'd have forgotten to ask by the time he did get home. She knew they were past the whole him not knowing what she did thing, but she really didn't want to tell him about the compass that showed you the way to your heart's desire. Not when the memories of Jack's smug grin were so fresh in her mind.

This is stupid, she thought to herself. Clearly she loved Rhys. She wouldn't be living with him and wearing his ring if she didn't. And now that he knew about her job, she didn't have the 'I-can't-tell-my-boyfriend-about-all-the-scary-and-unusual-stuff-I've-seen' excuse that she'd used to run to Owen. She had nothing to justify the betrayal in her heart.

But...and yet...

Jack's face when he'd found her engagement ring. The jealous way he'd acted when Rhys had found out about Torchwood. The excitement his touch had triggered when he'd pushed her against the wall last. The thrill when he'd told her that he'd come back for _her_. And his _eyes_...

"Gwen?"

"Yeah?" she looked around, realizing that Rhys had been waving his hand in front of her face. She hoped she didn't look too guilty, thinking of another man the way she had.

"You sure you don't want me to stay in?" he asked.

"No, no," she said, hoping she didn't look too desperate to get him out of the house. "You go. I've just had a long day, is all."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, yeah! Go. See your match, and say hi to Daf for me."

"Will do." He gave her a kiss and vanished out the front door.

Gwen sank down onto the couch, and put her head in her hands.

* * *

The downside to a compass that shows you the path to you your heart's desire is that it's not discerning. It doesn't tell you distance you need to travel. It doesn't tell you want you need to do to get there. It doesn't tell you whether what you _want_ and what you _need_ are the same thing. It doesn't tell you that a nice normal life is what you wanted, rather than the wild, unpredictable roller-coaster that is life at Torchwood. It doesn't show you what you _expect._

But really. How could an inanimate object be expected to tell the difference between the sweet, funny, normal, manager of a haulage firm and the dashing, handsome, sexually open, roguish, immortal, 51st century reformed conman?

It wasn't fair. Not to her, not to Rhys, or Jack or...Ianto.

She really should back off. She had Rhys. Ianto should get Jack. All to himself.

Why did that make her jealous?

God, she needed a drink.

Scribbling a quick note in case Rhys got home before her, she grabbed her coat and keys.

* * *

The staff of Torchwood – all five of them – had a pub. It wasn't a pub they had decided they were going to make their own; it was just one near the Hub that had _become _their own in the same way that all off duty cops will congregate in one area for a brew with the lads. It was their home away from home. Which, Gwen thought wryly, could either mean her apartment or the Hub. 

Jack had been quick to point out, too, that it was frequented by some very attractive men. Himself among them. Gwen had smiled and wished him happy hunting.

The pub was called _Cachu Iar. _It was a decent pub in spite of its name, with a good relaxing atmosphere. She didn't bring Rhys here. He had his own haunts. And now that she could share her job with him, she found that she didn't want to share her pub. So she didn't.

She spotted Ianto within the first five minutes of her walking through the door and up to the bar. He was nursing what looked like a whiskey, and looking...not miserable, but definitely not happy, either. She was still debating whether or not she should go talk to him when he looked up and saw her. Thankfully, he returned her small smile, and indicated that she should take the stool next to him. She did.

"Are you alright, Ianto?" she asked when she'd ordered her own drink.

"Just...thinking," he said. His words were only a little slurred. He couldn't have had that much.

"Me too."

They sat in silence for a time.

"Jack made me lock Owen and Tosh in the closet," Ianto said some time later.

Gwen stared at him. "He what?"

"After you left. He was tired of them not talking to each other. Said they should work it out."

"Huh."

"They'll be alright, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, should be. Jack's there, right?"

"Yeah."

Gwen regretted mentioning Jack again. Now Ianto looked...wilted.

"Sorry," she said.

Ianto laughed harshly, and gestured with his drink. "'S not right," he said. "We shouldn't be...we shouldn't be fighting."

Gwen frowned. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Not nearly enough," Ianto said fervently.

"Enough to think we're fighting," Gwen muttered. She contemplated taking his drink away, and then shrugged and downed her own. She ordered another.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, the pair of them were sitting in a hemispherical booth and were surrounded by a forest of empties. They were both so knackered that when Jack walked through the door, spotted them and came over their table, they didn't even notice. They were completely engrossed in a drinking game. It was slow going because they kept forgetting what they were supposed to be doing next. 

"I don't think...I don't think...you're supposed to being doing the other one," Gwen said, trying to concentrate. She was laughing too hard. "No, you're not getting the actions right. You have to drink. Drink!" She took a sip of her own drink for luck.

"The rum is gone," Ianto muttered, staring morosely into the bottom of his cup as though more alcohol would magically appear. "Why is the rum always gone?"

Gwen handed him hers, and Ianto took a swig. He handed it back to her. Luckily for him, a waitress sailed by, leaving two more drinks on the table. Gwen and Ianto each grabbed one and toasted one another.

"Anything for you?" the waitress asked Jack.

Jack looked her up and down and grinned his wolfish grin. "Not right now, but I might find you later," he said with a wink.

The waitress smiled and blushed and vanished into the crowd.

"You two seem to be having a lot of fun," Jack said, sliding into the booth beside Gwen.

"Jack!" Ianto yelled. He tried to sit up right and ended up knocking over some of the empty bottles. This struck him as exceedingly hilarious and he burst into giggles.

"Come join us! We were just..." Gwen frowned, trying to remember what she'd been about to say.

"We were trying to decide who gets – mph!"

Jack frowned. Whatever Ianto had been about to say had been cut off by Gwen's hand on his mouth, shushing him. Jack was curious to find out what that was.

"We agreed not to say," she said, drink and high spirits colouring her cheeks. Ianto's face had taken on the doubly ruddy complexion of one who is both embarrassed and completely sozzled.

Jack looked from one to the other.

"I think you two have had too much to drink."

"Nah," Gwen said with a wave of her hand that almost capsized another round of bottles. "I don't want to go home just yet. It's so...so _boring_."

"You're in no state to drive anyway," Jack said. "You either, Ianto. Come on. I'll settle your tab and take you back to the Hub for now."

Gwen seemed about to protest again.

"It's closer," Jack added gently. "Finish your drink and get your stuff."

"Yes sir!" Ianto said, trying to snap off a salute. He hit himself in the eye instead. "Ow. Bloody hell!"

Jack laughed and shook his head. He left them to finish off their drinks as he went in search of the waitress.

By the time Jack pushed his way back through the crowd, Ianto and Gwen were standing only by leaning on one another. He had to smile. They were just so damned cute. Ianto even had his tie loose, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his top buttons undone. His suit jacket was draped, rumpled, over the arm he wasn't using to support Gwen. His blue eyes were alight with the dry wit he usually kept hidden while at work, his cheeks tinted rose by the alcohol.

Gwen's hair was, for once, tied back from her face. Her green eyes were bright with humor (and booze), and she was laughing at something Ianto had said before Jack had gotten back into hearing range.

Jack inserted himself between them, giving them something steady to lean on and wrapping his arms around them both.

"Now this is more like it," he said, and gave them each a squeeze as he guided them out of the pub and into the cool, most air.

"'S'not fair," Gwen said into his coat. "You're not even half drunk."

"Just means I'll remember this in the morning," Jack said happily.

"Oh, don't you dare," Gwen said. "You're not to remember any of this. That's an order."

"So you're giving me orders now?" Jack said archly. "We never did solve that power-struggle," he added and watched Gwen turn an even more interesting shade of red, grinning at her discomfort.

Ianto seemed content to remain silent, though he'd leaned most of his weight onto his Captain. They continued in relative silence, the two drunkards doing their level best to put one foot in front of the other.

Gwen stopped a moment later, and Jack and Ianto paused in their steps. Ianto swayed a little.

"Hang on," she said. "Phone's going off."

She fiddled in her pocket until she was able to pull it out, and tried to focus on the screen.

"Does that say 'Rhys'?" she asked, showing it to Jack.

"Yes it does."

"Right. Just a sec." She hit the green button and put the phone to her ear. "Helo! Hwyl fawr am nawr!" She hit the red button and giggled to herself.

The phone rang again. She answered it. Jack could hear Rhys' half of the conversation through the speaker, the volume was up so high.

"Noswaith dda!" Gwen greeted him.

"_Have you been drinking?"_

_"_Dw i ddim yn deall."

"_What? You must have been drinking, you daft woman, if you're speaking Welsh. You on your way home?"_

Before Gwen could say anything else, Ianto reached around Jack and pulled the phone out of Gwen's hand.

"Don't worry, Mr. Williams," Ianto said in his best butler's voice, "we'll have your fiancée home in time for supper."

Even Jack couldn't hold back the laughter on that one.

"_Who's this?" _Came Rhys' suspicious reply.

"Ianto Jones, Torchwood Teaboy," Ianto replied over Gwen's giggles. Gwen snatched the phone back before Ianto could say anything else, Rhys squawking for clarification on the other end.

"Rhys?" she asked. "I'll be home...when I get there. No, I'm fine. Just had a few pints with Ianto. No really, I'm fine. I'll talk to you later. Love you too." She hit the red button again, and put the phone back in her pocket.

"I can take you home," Jack offered.

"In a bit," she said. She was enjoying leaning up against Jack, inhaling the scent of him. Jack couldn't say that he wasn't enjoying it also. And, it was made all the better by Ianto doing much the same thing on the other side.

They continued on their way. They were halfway back to the Hub when Ianto started singing a Welsh marching song. Gwen picked it up, though she slurred half the words and forgot the rest. And Jack...

Jack stood in the middle of it all – quite literally – and grinned. And sang along.

He wondered if now was a good time to try out some of those uses he'd thought up for that compass.

* * *

In the morning, she woke up in a tangle of limbs. And since she was warm, she didn't much care that there seemed to be more limbs than Rhys had ever had, or that her own were wrapped around a mass far too big to be just one person. She was safe, and warm, and knew nothing could harm her here. She hadn't slept this well for a long, long time. She drifted in and out of consciousness and dreams. 

But she couldn't stay in this warm cocoon of sleep forever. She had to get up. She had to go to work. She had to...

She opened her eyes.

And wished to all things holy that she hadn't. It would have prolonged the illusion that her head wasn't being hit with a twenty pound hammer, or that her mouth didn't feel like she'd been eating cotton, or that her stomach didn't feel like it was about to implode and then explode and then implode again, or that the room – tube? – wasn't actually swirling around her uncontrollably. But she had. And now she _hurt_.

She shifted, dislodging some of the weight off of her. Someone groaned to her left. She forced herself to focus. Ianto. Ianto?

"_Ianto_?"

"Bloody hell. Is that any way to greet someone in the morning? Especially after the night we've apparently had." He lifted a hand which heretofore had been resting somewhere highly inappropriate and pressed it to his forehead. He opened his own eyes, and then opened them wider. "_Gwen_?"

"Oh _god_."

"What the hell did I drink last night?"

"Rum," said a familiar voice before Gwen could make a sarcastic reply about morning-after etiquette. "Mostly, anyway."

Gwen turned to her right, but had to wait for the rest of her head to catch up with her.

"_Jack_?"

"Morning, Sunshine!"

* * *

A/N: So! Did you like? I did my best not to ruin your expectations... And a great big thank you to Pandora of Ithilien for the suggestion about the closet. I actually managed to construct the entire chapter around that, so...extra cookies for you! 

Now, about the Welsh: I can't actually speak Welsh, though I really wish I could. I'm learning (very slowly) to...so if I use the wrong grammar, or the wrong phrase, or if something I use doesn't mean quite what I thought it meant, let me say that I'm terribly sorry to anyone who actually does speak the Language of Heaven, and that I would welcome any and all advice on how to fix it.

So...the Welsh I did use came from a handy sheet of common phrases (and one of swear words). To find it, look up Clwb Malu Cachu on Google. I'm not sure what 'malu' means, but if 'cachu' means what I think it means, then they've got a sense of humor. Anyway, according to them:

'Helo!' is 'Hello'

'Hwyl fawr am nawr' is 'goodbye for now'

'Noswaith dda' is 'good evening'

'Dw i ddim yn deall' is 'I don't understand'

You'll also find all manner of handy pronunciation guides, and grammar rules and things, language tools and suggestions for learning techniques, et cetera...so if you're interested in learning and haven't found the site already, I suggest checking it out. There. My free advertising for the day.

I've used the Welsh spelling of 'Daf' also, since I'm guessing his name's actually Dafydd...singular 'f's are pronounced as voiced fricatives...which are 'v's. And the fact that I know what a fricative is just goes to show you I spent waaaaay too much time at school. So 'Daf' is 'Dav'.

As for the name of the pub, _Cachu Iar_, I'm going to let you guys translate that one :)


	3. Bloody Hell

A/N: Ooo...chapter three already, and it's barely been a week. This one took a little longer to write than the other two, largely because writing it was like pulling teeth...but I got it written, and so it's done. Hopefully you like it as much as the others...

Once again, THANK YOU!!! to everyone who has ever reviewed or read my silly little story!

**Disclaimer**: Still in the first chapter, still applies

**Spoilers**: Still just the generalities of 'Meat'

**Rating**: Still PG-13 (T)

**Warning**: Not only is it cheese on crack, but someone dropped the cheese and now it's covered in lint.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Bloody Hell**

Gwen was not having a good day thus far. She had woken up in a strange place with two of her work mates after a night of heavy drinking. She didn't entirely remember what had happened on that night of heavy drinking, and she was somewhat terrified that she had accidentally cheated on her fiancé with, not only her boss, but with the Torchwood Teaboy too.

This was not good

Never mind how safe and comfortable she'd felt before she'd fully woken up.

Never mind that seeing Jack's face first thing in the morning (well, second thing) had made a thrill go up and down her spine.

Never mind that Ianto's hands were...places they shouldn't have been.

Never mind that.

The biggest question now was, _where the hell were her clothes_?

It was all that bloody compass' fault.

She was going to kill Jack. And then kill him again, when he came back to life. And then again for good measure.

Just as soon as she got rid of this hangover.

"So, sleepyheads," Jack said, his voice far too loud for Gwen's liking. He sat up and twisted around to look down at his bedfellows. "How 'bout some breakfast?"

"Jack," Gwen said very slowly. "Where the hell are my clothes?"

"What?" Jack asked with false shock. "We're naked?"

Gwen didn't bother to peek under the blankets and sheets. She was wearing clothing. It was Ianto's clothing, but it was certainly better than no clothing, especially given the situation. Ianto himself was wearing a sleeveless undershirt, and boxers. She knew he was wearing boxers, and not briefs (or nothing) because his legs were still wrapped around hers.

He was wearing boxers.

"You don't remember?" Jack asked in a tone of mock hurt. "And after the night we had, too."

"Jack, you were the only one who wasn't drunk. _You_ remember."

"You ordered me not to, _remember_?" he asked cheerfully. "And I'm only obeying because we solved that power struggle."

Her whole body was blushing. She was sure of it. God knew her face had gone the colour of pressed beets. She wanted to bury her head in the blankets and never come out. The throbbing in her head was making it hard to think.

"Now, breakfast," Jack said, before Gwen could react. He sprang up from the bed and vanished through a hole in the ceiling.

Gwen stared after him, but she didn't move. Neither did Ianto, who had apparently gone back to sleep.

"Ianto?" she asked. She was feeling rather introspective at the moment. Anybody would have been, having just seen Jack Harkness' naked backside vanishing into the room above.

"Mmm?" Ianto's eyes creaked open again.

"Do you know what happened to my clothes?"

"I believe it had something to do with a minor accident involving frying oil and a defabricator. But I'm not sure. That might have been a dream."

"Oh." A beat, and then, "Why frying oil?"

"I think we were trying to make chips."

"Chips? What happened, then?"

"The pilot light on the stove went out, so Jack hooked up some sonic resonator thing to boil the oil, and then it blew up."

"I think I remember that. Sort of." Gwen turned back to her left and looked at Ianto. His short hair was mussed, as she knew her own must be, and his blue eyes were red-rimmed and bleary. She laughed weakly. "I nearly got scalded."

"That would be it," Ianto said with a sigh and a weak laugh of his own. He closed his eyes. "So I loaned you my shirt. That's about where the memory stops."

"Oh."

There was silence for a moment. Gwen slid over, a little to the right, ostensibly to give Ianto a more room. There wasn't much, in Jack's sleeping tube; that was likely how they'd ended up all tangled together. So why did that explanation feel like a thin excuse?

If Ianto noticed her movement, he didn't say.

"Ianto?" she asked a few minutes later. Her eyes had begun to drift close as exhaustion began to drag her back into unconsciousness. She fought to remain awake. She needed to find out how she'd gotten herself into this, find out what her mind was not letting her remember, find out if she'd actually betrayed Rhys, or if she'd just really, really wanted to. And figure out which of those two options was better.

"Mmm?"

"Why am I not freaking out? I should be freaking out about this."

His eyes opened again. "Hangover. Go back to sleep." He closed his eyes.

She didn't want to go back to sleep. She wanted to kill Captain Jack bloody Harkness, since this was clearly all his fault. But her body obviously had other ideas, since she fell back to sleep before she could force herself to get up.

* * *

Jack waited until the sounds of conversation had faded before he peeked in. Both Gwen and Ianto had fallen back asleep. As Jack watched, Ianto sighed in his sleep, and turned over. Instinctively latching on to the first source of heat he could find, Ianto flung one arm over Gwen and snuggled up. 

He grinned, and took aim with his camera. This was just too damn cute for words. He knew Gwen was going to have a fit and a half when she actually woke up properly (and especially if she ever found that picture – or several others from the night before), but for now...it was worth it. He wished he could keep this scene in his memory forever.

Now, though, it was time to make breakfast.

He made a detour at the computer, however. With a few keystrokes, he hid away the last night's CCTV footage in a file labeled 'maintenance back-log5', moved it only to his own personal computer. And then wiped the traces. One could only be too careful.

* * *

It was the smell of coffee that drew Gwen out of her slumber. And toast. And...eggs? She sat up, letting the sheets fall to her lap. 

She was alone in the tube that was Jack's bed. She was still wearing Ianto's shirt, which was thankfully large enough to cover pretty much everything. Her clothes had apparently been lost to the defabricator. Whatever that was. She made a mental note to leave extra clothes at the Hub for days like this.

Her headache had dissipated somewhat. It was no longer the agonizing, pounding headache of death that it had been. She was dying for a shower and a toothbrush and was about to stick her head up through the ceiling when something occurred to her.

Leave clothes here for 'days like this'? Was she _mad_? How many more 'days like this' were there going to be? Was she going to continue to do this, even after she was married? After she'd promised Rhys to love only him?

Rhys...oh God, _Rhys_!

She had to call him, to let her know that she was alright. The last time she'd talked to him was when Ianto had pulled the phone from her hands...oh _god_.

She lunged up through the ceiling and into Jack's office...and nearly fell down again. The room spun around her.

"Careful," Jack said, reaching down to help her up. He was, thankfully, dressed.

She ignored the part of her that wished he wasn't.

"I have to call Rhys," she gasped. "He must be worried sick."

"Already done," Jack said. Hungover as she was, Gwen still noted the tense note in his voice, residual traces of the effort he'd gone through in order to interact with her fiancé. "I called him while you slept, apologized for keeping you out all night, and let him know that I'd be sending you home as soon as you felt better. You get the day off today," he added. "Ianto too."

"Thank you, sir," Ianto said. Gwen jumped. She hadn't realized that Ianto had been standing behind her. He looked a little better than he had earlier, though he was still wearing only his boxers and a sleeveless undershirt. Gwen hadn't realized, until now, just how long his legs were. She unconsciously tugged the bottom her shirt down a little further.

"Now," Jack said, rubbing his hands together with glee. "Showers. Just the thing we need. If we all get in now, we'll be done in record time."

Gwen tried to figure out if he was joking. She decided that he was.

"I can wait," she said, a little more harshly than she intended to. She forced herself to moderate her tone. "You go ahead."

"I can scrub your back," Ianto offered. She whirled, but he was clearly joking, showing more of his emerging dry wit. This actually elicited a smile from her, however small.

"No, really. You two go ahead. I have to call Rhys anyway."

Jack looked at Ianto and grinned. Ianto grinned back. Gwen looked from one to the other, eyebrows pulling down as she frowned.

"Race you," Jack suggested. Ianto bolted, bare feet banging on the metal grating. "There's food in the kitchen," Jack yelled as he ran after Ianto. He paused in the door frame. "Coffee and stuff in the pot. Painkillers are in the third box from the right on the second shelf of the bookshelf behind you." He jabbed a finger at her. "Only take one!"

And then he was gone, leaving Gwen standing in his office. Wearing nothing but Ianto's shirt and a very confused look. She tried not to picture all the things Ianto and Jack could get up to in the shower. She failed. She had to shake her head to get the images out, though all that accomplished was the sudden increase in agony behind her eyes.

She phoned Rhys.

* * *

Rhys Williams was standing outside the door to the Torchwood front, the dilapidated tourist shop, when his phone rang. He answered it. 

"Rhys?" Gwen asked. She sounded tired and hung over. And if the answers he'd gotten from her last night were anything to go by, she likely was.

"Hey there, sweetheart," he said cheerfully. "I'm just on my way to get you."

"Oh no, it's alright," she said quickly. "Jack said he'd give me a lift home later, so don't worry about it."

"Well, Jack Harkness - "

"_Captain_ Jack Harkness," Gwen corrected, though she couldn't really have said why. Something in the way that Rhys had left out Jack's title...rankled. It was the only word for it, even if it didn't make any sense. Likely, if her brain hadn't been threatening to break out of her skull, she wouldn't have bothered with the correction.

"Fine, _Captain_ Jack Harkness isn't the one who's going to be taking care of you when you're ill. That's my job, so that's what I'm doing."

She laughed on the other end of the phone, and Rhys could detect a note of desperation in her voice.

"That's sweet," she said. "But don't worry about it. I appreciate the gesture, but I'm fine. Really."

"Is everything alright?" he asked. She sounded incredibly tense all of a sudden. Something was wrong.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's fine. Just fine. No need to come here at all, really. I'll see you when I get home."

"Well, you're stuck with me," Rhys said, and tried to keep his voice light. Even now, when he knew about where she worked and all the wonderful things that went on there, she still tried to keep it from him. "I'm already at the door. See you in a few."

He hung up.

* * *

Down in the Hub, Gwen started to panic. She swore. A lot. Then she bolted for Jack's office/bedroom, and tried to find some pants. She couldn't. She didn't know where Jack's closet was. And even if she could find it, chances were all it had in it were blue shirts, slacks, waistcoats and suspenders. The last thing she wanted to greet Rhys while wearing was Ianto's shirt, however. She had to find some pants. 

Maybe she could hide in the depths of the Hub. Wait until Rhys wandered off in boredom. No, that wouldn't work. He'd come looking for her.

This was bad. This was really bad. All she could hope now was that Rhys wouldn't remember where the bloody button that opened the door upstairs was. Fat chance of that happening, though. She had to think of something.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked behind her, startling her badly. Ianto was just coming up the walkway behind him. They were both wrapped in big fluffy towels, beads of water sparkling on their skin, blue eyes shining with mirth. Gwen would have wondered at the speed of their shower, were it not for the more pressing issue.

"Rhys. He's here!"

"Oh." Jack didn't seem too worried.

"I'm not wearing any pants, Jack!" Gwen yelled. "And neither are you! It's not going to take a super genius to guess what he's going to think!"

"Well, get down to the showers then," Jack said, and he and Ianto stepped aside to let her past. "We'll distract your fiancé with our buff manly bodies while you clean yourself up, and then we'll find you some clothes."

Gwen stared at him. Distract Rhys with their buff manly bodies? What the hell was he on about? Ianto had melted off into...wherever it is he goes when he doesn't want to be noticed. Likely to get dressed. He probably had a suit stashed around somewhere. He was that sort of guy.

"Get moving!" Jack ordered her, with a firm smack to her back side. She ran.

And just in time, too. As she rounded the corner to the stairs down to the lower levels, where the shooting range, small gym and showers were, she heard the familiar sounds of the metal gates opening, and the cog-shaped door rolling back.

Rhys had arrived.

* * *

A/N: You'll have to forgive the OOC-ness on Gwen's part in this one. Ordinarily, if faced with such a situation, she wouldn't rest until she had an explanation...but...whatever. I've written it, and it's done, so no worries. Hopefully chapter four will be better...at any rate, we'll find out what happened to Tosh and Owen...and, perhaps, some more of the compass. Seeing as how that's what this story's technically about...:) See you then! 


	4. Soap and Manliness

A/N: The reviews I've been getting have just left me flabbergasted. Honestly...you people are the best. I'm so glad you're enjoying my little story...and I can't say THANK YOU enough times. Even saying 'diolch yn fawr' doesn't seem to cut it...and that, according to my Gran, means 'thank you very much'.

I've also been reading some of your stories...and I feel privileged to be posting among such brilliant and talented authors. Hugs for all!

**Disclaimer**: In chapter one, you'll find it.

**Rating**: Same as it ever was

**Warning**: Picking the cheese up off the floor...I've got nothing. Trying to extend the description of the sort of cheese this story is isn't working. It's cheese, and that's about it. I'd even venture to say it's the good kind of cheese...the sort you eat with a good wine...but now I'm babbling, so I'll let you get on with the story.

* * *

**Chapter Four: Soap and Manliness **

Rhys stepped through the swinging metal gates and into the Hub. The sheer size of this place never failed to amaze him. The same as the harsh cry of the pterodactyl Myfanwy as she sailed overhead, or the giant pillar that became the sculpture high above, next to the invisible lift. Or the invisible lift itself. Or the naked man standing in the middle of the room...

What? Rhys' eyes panned back across the room and this time stayed on the naked muscular man in the middle of the walkway.

Okay, not naked. He was wearing a towel. A small compensation for the start it had given him, Rhys thought. There was no one else around.

"Oh, Rhys. I wasn't expecting you."

Jack Harkenss – _Captain_ Jack Harkness, Rhys corrected himself – was standing in the middle of the hub wearing nothing but a towel and a cheeky grin. Clearly he had just come from a shower. Rhys tried not to be intimidated by the picture that Jack presented, standing there with his towel low around his hips, smirking with the swaggering self-assuredness of a pirate.

Rhys tried not to be jealous. He failed, but not to any spectacular degree. The jealousy was easily dismissed. After all, _he_ was the one Gwen came home to. Not Captain Jack Harkness, for all his good looks and mysterious airs.

"Just here for Gwen," Rhys said. "Thought I'd give her a ride home."

"Well, you'll have to excuse me for a moment," Jack said, smiling. "You caught me coming up from a shower."

"I can see that," Rhys said. "Just point me in Gwen's direction and I'll be out of your way."

"She's two floors down, grabbing a shower herself."

"Nonsense, I just talked to her."

"Yeah, she mentioned that when I passed her on the way up," Jack said. "She didn't mention that you were almost here, however. Else I would have been better prepared to receive you." He gestured to the couch along the ceramic wall. "Have a seat while I get dressed."

Rhys sat. Jack vanished into his office, but Rhys didn't see where the Captain had gone after that. He knew that the Captain lived in the Hub, but he'd never speculated on where the Captain slept. When Rhys had asked Gwen about it, she'd said that Jack didn't sleep. Rhys had thought she was joking.

Jack re-emerged a few minutes later, wearing proper clothing. Clothing out of the 1940's to be sure – a preference that Rhys didn't entirely understand – but it was better than a towel and damp skin. At the same time, from a different part of the huge underground structure, the man that Rhys recognized as Ianto Jones emerged. Rhys' eyes narrowed. The one who'd taken the phone from Gwen last night.

"Ah, Mr. Williams," Ianto greeted him. He was still buckling the cuffs on his shirt, and his hair was still plastered to the top of his head with water. Clearly, Jack hadn't been the only one in the shower.

Rhys suddenly relaxed. So Jack was gay after all. When he'd asked, Jack hadn't answered one way or the other. What Rhys couldn't have known was that to anyone else, Jack would have propositioned them with a 'why, are you interested?' But now, faced with what Rhys thought to be a confirmation of Jack's tastes, all of Rhys' worries about Gwen and the enigmatic Captain – and the teaboy – went out the window.

"Ianto, is it?" Rhys asked cheerfully.

Rhys had, of course, completely forgotten the locker-room rules of men showering together, that it quite often meant nothing other than someone to face away from and make up dirty limericks with while waiting for the uncomfortable silence to go away. He had assumed that Jack and Ianto had shared the same shower.

He was right – but Gwen still would have bugged him for jumping to conclusions if she'd known. Especially since Rhys had made the assumption only to assuage his own uneasiness about his fiancée's involvement with her work mates. In all fairness, however, Rhys couldn't possibly have known that Jack would have quite cheerfully shared that shower with anything good looking, even if it had three legs instead of two, so long as things got wet and slippery.

"Yes, sir," Ianto answered. "I was just about to prepare some refreshments. Nothing more elaborate than tea and cookies, I'm afraid, because our kitchen equipment is experiencing some difficulty."

"Sounds lovely," Rhys said. Ianto moved off.

"Come in, come in," Jack invited Rhys into his office. Rhys entered slowly, unsure as to what Gwen's boss could want with him. "How are things at the haulage firm?" Jack asked.

"Ah, well. Same old, same old," Rhys answered. "Nothing so excitin' as what goes on 'ere, eh?"

"I guess not," Jack said with a little smile. "Though, these last few days have been pretty boring."

"Not so many aliens?"

"Not so much," Jack agreed. "It's been quiet."

Ianto chose that exact moment to appear, bearing a tray with mugs of tea, small jars of cream and sugar, and a plate of sugar cookies. He left it on Jack's desk and withdrew a few feet.

"I'll tell 'ya what we did find," Jack said, fishing around in his pocket as Rhys fixed himself some tea. Jack pulled the compass out and set it down on the desk in front of Rhys.

"What's that then?" Rhys asked.

"Open it," Jack countered.

Rhys picked up the compass, turning it over in his hands. He took in the engraving on the bottom.

"This yours?" he asked.

"No," Jack responded. "Not mine. Not originally, at any rate."

"What sort of bird is that then?" Rhys asked, pointing to the drawing on the bottom of the compass.

"Not sure," Jack answered.

"Looks almost like a robin," Ianto said from the other side of the room. "Or a barn swallow."

"A _chough_, perhaps?" Rhys pondered, missing the confused look Jack was giving them both.

"It could be an a blue tit for all we know," Jack said with a sigh. "But that's not the most fascinating thing about that thing. Open it."

Rhys turned the compass back over, and lifted the catch. The hinges creaked a little as he pushed back the lid.

"It's a compass," he said, clearly having expected something a little more...adventurous. He watched it spin. "It doesn't even point north."

Jack rolled his eyes heavenward. "Typical," he muttered. "Look again."

Rhys stared at the compass and it's lazily spinning needle. "It's not," he began. He stopped again, because a slight tingle ran through his fingers and into the compass. The needle jerked then spun once, quickly, and then stopped. Jack, Rhys and Ianto turned to see where was pointing.

There was nothing immediately noticeable in that direction, save for the huge, cog-shaped door. And, Jack immediately realized, it wasn't the direction to the showers. Not even slightly.

"What's over there then?" Rhys asked, a little unnerved.

"The person or thing you want most in the world," Jack answered.

"So that's the way Gwen went, is it?"

"Must be," Jack answered. Rhys didn't notice the fact that Jack's smile had frozen in place, or that his eyes had lit up with a secret glee. Because Jack already knew where Gwen was in relation to this office. He'd checked, just before Rhys had come in.

Jack couldn't say, exactly, why he'd shown Rhys the compass. Perhaps it was a petty desire to rub the wonder of this place in Rhys' face, to make him jealous of what Gwen was privileged to be a part of...but that was an emotion unworthy of the Doctor, who'd dragged Jack out of his cowardly ways and turned him into a real man. Perhaps it was because he wanted to know what Rhys wanted most...and the fact that it wasn't actually Gwen was probably unknown even to the Rhys himself.

But that was the problem with the compass. It didn't show you _what_ you wanted, just the direction it lay in. He took the compass back from Rhys. It had taken some concentration, but Jack had learned how to keep the needle from spinning rapidly around the room, how to focus on one thing at a time. Or two, as the case may be.

Concentrating, Jack let the needle point at Ianto for a second and then drift to Gwen. She had moved from her last position. Likely she was coming back upstairs from the showers. He noticed Rhys watching the twitching needle and snapped the compass shut, smiling enigmatically at the man he would always refer to in his head as The Other Man.

"More tea?"

* * *

When Gwen returned from the shower – which was, perhaps, the fastest shower she'd ever had, what with the images of the potential bloodbath upstairs running through her mind – she found Rhys and Jack in Jack's office. Jack was dressed in his usual affair of throw-back fashion. Ianto was hovering behind them with a tray of tea and cookies. She had no idea where he'd gotten the cookies from, or the clean suit that he had apparently acquired out of nowhere. Rhys himself was dressed as he normally was, in jeans and a t-shirt. 

Her own clothes consisted of Torchwood coveralls, which had been waiting for her when she emerged from the shower. Ianto must have brought them down while she was bathing. They had the Torchwood logo embroidered on them, and rather resembled what they'd dressed Janet the Weevil in when they'd captured her...him...it.

But Gwen really didn't care, because they fit, after a fashion, and were not Ianto's shirt. This, in her mind, was a huge step up from what she'd been wearing when Rhys had come through the door. Or not wearing, as the case may be.

"And here's the woman of the hour!" Rhys greeted her with a smile. He rose and kissed her, quick and on the lips. Gwen missed the look shared between Jack and Ianto, though even if she had seen it she wouldn't have been able to place the emotion in it.

"Miss me?" Gwen asked, because she could think of nothing else.

"Of course. Though Captain Jack and Mr. Jones here kept me company until you came up."

Several comments about the sort of company Jack and Ianto could keep ran through Gwen's mind. They were apparently going though Jack's mind too because he had to purse his lips to keep from smiling too widely. Gwen didn't miss the look he shared with Ianto this time.

"Well, I'm glad they kept you entertained," she said weakly. She was sure her face had started to glow with embarrassment again. Especially with Jack watching her the way he was, eyes filled with a certain type of smugness that made her want to leap the desk and punch him repeatedly. Or kiss him repeatedly. But she wrenched her mind away from that, because Rhys was looking at her concernedly and she didn't want him prying. He might not like what he found.

"You alright?" Rhys asked. Gwen snapped her eyes back to her fiancé.

"Yeah, sorry," she said. "Just a little tired."

"Well, Jack said you could have the day off, so don't you worry. I'll take you home and set you up a treat, and then nip down to the video store and rent us some movies."

"Sounds lovely," she said, desperate for an excuse to get out of the room. "Just let me track down my purse."

She slipped out of the room, and wished it didn't feel like she was fleeing any of the men inside. She wished she knew which of the men she was fleeing.

* * *

Her purse was in the the kitchen, on the table. It was covered in oil and smelled vaguely of a fast food joint. In fact, the whole kitchen did. Ianto was going to have his work cut out for him this time. 

The sonic resonator thing that Ianto had mentioned earlier was still hooked up to the stove. It was blackened and smelled rather like burnt electrical wires and tin. It was a miracle the stove itself hadn't exploded, or the gas line behind it. Perhaps it was time they switched to an electrical one.

Still, she tried to wipe off as much as the oil as she could before rifling through her purse to make sure she had everything. There was a plate of eggs and toast warming on a warming pad next to the small fridge, apparently left for her. She inspected it, but found that she didn't have much of an appetite just then.

The smell of coffee behind her alerted her to someone's presence. She turned. Ianto was leaning on the arch of the kitchen door, holding two mugs. He handed her one.

"I tried to tidy it up a little," Ianto said as Gwen took a sip. He looked around the damaged kitchen. "But it can wait for later."

Gwen nodded, but was too busy drinking her coffee to say anything. This was more like it, and far more welcome than the eggs and toast. It was as though he had brought her the nectar of the gods. Just what she needed, and just the way she liked it. She swallowed.

"Ianto, you are a god," she said appreciatively and took another sip.

"So you've said," Ianto shot back, taking a sip of his own.

Gwen stared at him as she tried to keep the hacking and coughing under control. Hot coffee burned the inside of her throat and nose. She managed to keep from spewing the drink all over the already dirty kitchen, but only just.

"So," Ianto continued when it was apparent that Gwen wasn't going to die by choking on coffee. "Alternate Tuesdays and Thursdays then?"

"...What?"

"That's what we decided, anyway," Ianto continued, seemingly oblivious to the look on Gwen's face. "It's what fit best, but I'm flexible – as you know. I can make up a schedule, if you like. I'll hang it in my office."

Gwen stared at him. She didn't like the way Ianto had emphasized the 'you' in 'as you know'. It was almost sinister. Plus, she was completely confused. She was going to ask what he was on about when a memory burst inside her head, sudden and sharp and bright like a firework. Of them sitting, completely drunk, around a table discussing...Jack. Someone (and it might even have been her) mentioned that there was an odd number of days in a week. The other shot back that there was an even number of nights, and that was what really counted anyway. And then she remembered that she had Rhys and...

...She wanted to say that that was where the joke had ended, that she'd remembered her fiancé through the veil of alcohol and had stopped short of impropriety. But the memory continued. She had remembered Rhys – but only because it meant that, according to their mythological schedule, Ianto would end up with more nights per week than she would. More nights. With Jack.

So Ianto had proposed giving her alternate Tuesdays and Thursdays to even things out. She had agreed. They'd shaken hands on it, and then toasted their decision with the next round of drinks.

Gwen stared, wondering why that memory didn't make her feel as guilty as she thought it should. Ianto merely grinned. Whatever he'd been about to say – if anything – was interrupted by the arrival of Rhys and Jack.

"Bloody hell!" Rhys exclaimed, seeing the damaged kitchen. "Now I'm a little glad you didn't come home last night," he said. "I don't think our little kitchen would have stood this."

"That's the problem with alien tech," Jack said. He didn't take his eyes off Gwen. "Never works quite the way you expect."

Now what was he on about? Even Rhys seemed to think there was some sort of inside joke going on. Gwen just wished someone would clue her in.

"Well, we should be going," Gwen said, trying to think of a way she could get Rhys out of here before either Jack or Ianto said something that could be taken the wrong way. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Assuming the world doesn't come to an end again," Jack replied.

She had to push past him on her way out of the kitchen. He smelled of soap and manliness. The scent brought back the memory of this morning, sharp and clear. The soft warmth and comfortable weight she'd woken to, the gentle smile below the brilliant blue eyes, even in the face of her shock and headache. She found herself longing for it again. And then she shook her head, shocked at her own brazen thoughts. She shouldn't be thinking of other men – especially in the presence of her fiancé.

Something occurred to her, though, and she paused in the arch of the door.

"Has anyone seen Tosh and Owen this morning?" she asked.

Jack and Ianto shared a pale, sickly glance, and then looked back at Gwen. As one, they darted out of the kitchen, pushing past Gwen and Rhys in their haste to run out. Gwen followed at their heels, leaving Rhys to stand in the ruined kitchen looking very much confused.

Jack beat Ianto to the closet, and Gwen was right behind. Jack threw the bolts and wrenched the door open, and they all peered in as Rhys arrived to see what all the fuss was about. Gwen was worried that they'd find Tosh and Owen dead, or just one of them if the other had had enough, or...something. Certainly not what she saw.

Curled in a corner, their arms around each other, were Tosh and Owen.

They were asleep, for now. Jack, Ianto and Gwen breathed a sigh of relief, even as Rhys was asking what was going on. Jack pulled a camera from one of his pockets and snapped a couple of pictures. He turned around, only to find Ianto and Gwen staring at him.

"It's cute," he said, a little defensively. He put the camera back in his pocket. "Plus, this thing has come in handy recently."

He shut the closet door again, but this time didn't close it all the way, or lock it. Tosh and Owen would come around soon enough. Owen was likely going to be spitting mad, but Jack still held high hopes that Owen and Tosh would have gotten over their mutual awkwardness.

"What else have you been taking pictures of, sir?" Ianto asked, his voice deceptively mild, the level of curiosity deliberately used to keep Rhys from thinking that anything worthy of drunken photography had happened last night.

"Oh, you know. Stuff."

"Funny, I've never seen you take pictures before," Gwen said, wondering just what else was on that memory card. She shared a brief, glancing look with Ianto. He nodded a barely perceivable nod. He would find out. One of the many benefits of working with someone, of being pack alpha while the true alpha was away – subtle signals like this were more than useful.

"You should pay attention more," Jack replied haughtily, belying his own advice because he hadn't picked up on the silent exchange between Gwen and Ianto. "Now, everyone has the day off today – except me, and barring the end of the world. So I suggest you use the time to get some rest," he said dismissively. He pointed back towards the cog-shaped door. "Go home. Both of you. That's an order."

"Yes sir," Gwen muttered, giving him one last long, hard look. She took a deep breath, and tried to ignore the mingled scents of soap and clean man. And then she hooked her arm in Rhys', turned him around and marched him out of the Hub.

* * *

A/N: Ooooo...the plot thickens. Or does it? Stay tuned...or logged in. Whichever works, really... 

Let's see...a _chough_ is a kind of bird, apparently. It's black - that's about all I know of it. I picked it because it was one of the first things to come up when I did a Google search on 'Welsh Birds'. Now, word to the wise: don't click on the first link you come to when searching "Welsh Birds" because it'll take you to a site that has nothing to do with actual birds. Unless, of course, that's your thing. But if all you want to do is look up the species name for one or two birds in Wales to aid in your attempts at natural dialogue in a story set in Wales, try the second or third links down. They'll actually be about ornithoids.

Now...anyone else need some chocolate after picturing Jack and Ianto in the shower together? I know I do...


	5. Musings

A/N: Okay, so this one's a leeeeeeeeetle bit more...um...I want to say 'mopey', but that's not quite it. Dark? Nah. Just...introspective. There. I did try to interject some humor, but it occurred to me that some of Gwen's thoughts had to be addressed at some point, because the situation with Jack doesn't fall into what most of us would consider 'conventional morality'. So...those thoughts got addressed, to a degree, and hopefully you'll like this as much as you've liked the others.

Once again, a mighty THANK YOU to anyone and everyone who has ever read or reviewed my goofy attempt at humor.

**Disclaimer**: Yes. There is one. It's still in chapter one.

**Rating**: Still T, on account of minor swearing

**Spoilers**: Not so much...still the obvious ones about Meat, but nothing much beyond that...

* * *

**Chapter Five: Musings**

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed uneventfully – for Gwen, at least. Rhys, true to his word, took her home and set her up a treat and then nipped out for movie rentals. The pair of them spent the evening watching comedies and bad alien movies (a distinction without a difference, in most cases), eating popcorn and laughing. Rhys tactfully didn't ask Gwen about _why_ she'd gone back out to get hammered the night before, even though he really wanted to.

His one attempt to draw out gossip from her work had involved speculating on Jack and Ianto's relationship, but Gwen wasn't biting at the bait.

"Whatever they get up to is their own business," Gwen said with a shrug. Even though the memory of the morning was still very fresh in her mind, and even though she was actually a little tempted to see what Ianto had come up with in terms of the schedule. She had to keep her speculation neutral – not just to avoid suspicion on Rhys' part, but because if she considered leaving Jack to Ianto as she knew she should, she felt jealousy stirring in her heart.

Later, after she and Rhys had retired to bed, and after Rhys' breathing had deepened and evened, Gwen lay awake thinking about it.

She remembered most of the alcohol-driven discussion she'd had with Ianto the night before. She'd tried to articulate, before she'd gotten too drunk, the curious kind of jealousy she felt concerning their boss. She _didn't_ want him all to herself. The idea seemed, somehow, wrong. By that same token, the idea of _Ianto_ having Jack all to himself seemed just as wrong. The only solution, then, was to share. Ianto had agreed.

And it was that realization, couched in the fuzzy logic of one too many drinks, that shocked Gwen the most.Sharing didn't seem to bother her as much as she knew it should – wished it would. It was _supposed_ to bother her. By all the precepts of her culture, her civilization, it was wrong. One man to one woman. And yeah, that also meant one man to one man, or one woman to one woman; it was the principle of exclusivity that remained the same. If someone had asked her to share Rhys, she would have ripped them a new one.

Somehow, though...with Jack...the rules didn't count.

And that, she thought to herself, lying in the dark, was the crux of it. The rules didn't apply to her boss.

He couldn't die. He led an organization that was, by its very nature, outside every law. He could tell her to hold on to her normal life, to not let things slide, and in the same look beg her to come to him, to forget the rest of the world and abandon herself...okay, now she was into wishful fantasizing. The fact of the matter was, Captain Jack Harkness was the true embodiment of a pirate.

Now where had that image come from? Gwen wouldn't have thought that hers was a mind to toss up metaphors of that sort. It was likely that compass' fault, she realized. It had a certain pirate-y feeling to it, as though it carried the touch of some long-dead swashbuckling rouge. It must be rubbing off on her.

A pirate...such an odd image for Jack. Off the top of her head, it wouldn't have been the one she'd picked. But now that she thought of it, she realized that it fit. Jack wasn't a _real _pirate. Not a filthy, disease encrusted bilge rat, raping and pillaging and destroying simply because he could. No...

Jack was the _other_ sort. The sort that graced the covers of romance novels. The sort that wore tight black britches and flowing white poet shirts, half undone – or, rather, a circa 1940 RAF greatcoat, which had the same effect. Jack was the sort that caused women to swoon and men to _want_ to become a pirate; the ideal, the image, the _archetype_. The inspiration of loyalty in his comrades. The hint of danger and the promise of protection. Someone who looked really good brandishing a sword and saying 'to hell' with the rules, but always took the moral high ground because that's what set him above the 'real' pirates.

He was _free_. That, more than anything else, intoxicated and enticed her.

The fact that he could exude sexuality at the drop of a hat and had the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she'd ever seen was icing on the proverbial cake.

She rolled over and sighed. This was getting her nowhere. And Rhys' snoring was doing nothing for her sanity. She rose.

The living room was quiet. She stretched herself out on the couch, as she waited for the kettle to boil. The light from the lamp caught the diamond on her finger, and she stared at it.

She'd been sitting in this exact spot when she'd told Rhys about Owen – and drugged him right after. She'd sworn, after Rhys had passed out (without giving her the absolution that she had craved) that she would never hurt him like that again. And, thus far, she hadn't.

Except now she was seriously contemplating implementing Ianto's schedule. Now that Rhys knew what she did, knew where she went every day, knew the danger she faced, and where she'd be interred if she died, and what would happen to her things...now that she had what she thought she actually wanted...that blasted compass had to go and show her what she _really_ wanted.

She thought back to the morning, before the headache and nausea had kicked in. She thought back to the night before, to Jack appearing at their table in _Cachu Iar_, and the quickening of her heart as he'd slid into the booth next to her, the rock steady support he'd provided on the way back to the Hub. She thought back to the day at the warehouse, when he'd slammed her against the wall, and the day he'd taught her how to shoot. How the mere grazing of his fingers made her giddy with anticipation. She thought back to her first day, when she'd kissed him in thanks for helping to save a girl's life. She thought of how she wanted to get to know him, to keep him company, to make him laugh and smile. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, it seemed, and she wanted to bear it for him.

And as she thought of these, and other instances, she began to tremble as the realization hit home:

She was in love. With Captain Jack Harkness.

She had only a brief instant in which to revel in her newly realized feelings, and then guilt twisted her stomach to knots. The feeling was so strong that she found herself staggering to her feet and darting to the bathroom to collapse before the porcelain altar. But she did not make her offering. Instead, she curled into a ball on the floor and tried to stop the room from spinning while she tried to work everything out.

* * *

Owen had been...angry. 

It was the simplest word that Jack could use to describe the complete shit-fit that Owen had thrown upon spotting Jack early that afternoon.

He'd sworn. He'd shouted. He had stomped his feet. He had thrown things. And when he had finally calmed down, Owen had collapsed in a chair and put his head in his hands and sighed the bone weary sigh of someone with too much on their minds.

Tosh had just gone home, looking furtive and wary, as though she had a secret. She'd never been good at hiding secrets from him, Jack thought. Worst liar in the universe. Her body language gave it away every time. In this case, though, Jack was fairly certain he knew what that secret was.

"I suppose I should thank you," Owen said grudgingly, a good half an hour after his temper tantrum had wound down.

"What for?" Jack asked.

Owen merely smirked and stood. He gathered his things and left without a backwards glance.

Jack smiled himself. Perhaps Owen had finally realized how much Tosh had fallen for him, had realized himself how much of a git he could be towards her. At any rate, those two had gotten over their awkwardness and Jack had the pictures to prove it.

He retreated back into his office, pulling the slim camera from his pocket as he did so. It was just a normal digital camera, with normal memory capacity. He almost wished it had some sort of alien properties, that it recorded more than just events or images. But no...they hadn't found a camera like that that could fit in a pocket. And the one they had found was securely locked down in archives because it tended to give off harmful radiation – and take pictures of things that hadn't happened yet. It could lead to all manner of headaches.

No, this camera had to hook up to his computer 'the old fashioned way', via a USB cable. He did that now, thinking that since that he had the entire Hub to himself, it was the perfect time to see what sort of hideously embarrassing pictures came out of the night before. And then he frowned.

There were no pictures. In fact, the camera was saying that there was no memory card at all. Jack's eyes narrowed.

"Ianto," he breathed. That sneaky bastard.

* * *

'That sneaky bastard' had gone home quite pleased with himself. Not only had he managed to get out out of having to clean up the horrendous mess that was the Torchwood kitchen, but he had also avoided Owen's inevitable hissy fit. And successfully pick-pocketed the memory card out of Jack's camera without Jack noticing. That had required both a distraction _and_ a great deal of skill. 

Thankfully, Ianto had been able to supply both the distraction and the slight of hand necessary to lift the card. Though distracting Jack had definitely been the more difficult part. Jack required a _lot_ of distraction before he'd forget to guard his pockets. It would have been better if Gwen had been able to stay and help, but she'd had to leave with Rhys.

Ah well. Ianto had been able to manage, in the end.

This morning had not been altogether unexpected. True, he had gotten something of a shock, waking up next to Gwen. He'd actually been expecting Jack, but Gwen was something...else. Not a bad something else, just...different. He hadn't thought she'd be...willing.

Though really, when he thought about it, the look on her face when Jack had helped her out of her shirt and into Ianto's own probably could have clued him in as to the possible outcome of the evening.

He wondered if she remembered that part of the evening at all. He certainly did. And he knew Jack did. Jack had said as much when they'd been in the shower. Hell – Jack probably had pictures of it.

Plus, the CCTV footage from the Hub last night had mysteriously vanished off the hard drive. Ianto wondered if it was worth betting someone the ten quid as to where it had gone. Gwen would probably tell him that she didn't take sucker bets, and it would likely be better if he just gave her the money for something else. Perhaps Owen could be persuaded...

As Ianto reached into his pocket to retrieve his house keys, his fingers brushed the memory card he had lifted out of Jack's camera. Jack was going to be pissed when he went to download his pictures and discovered they weren't there, but Ianto figured he had a bit of time before Jack appeared on his doorstep to get it back.

Enough time to save them to his own hard drive and send copies to Gwen, at any rate.

The memory card was mercifully empty of anything prior to when Jack appeared at _Cachu Iar_. Ianto would have been mortified if he'd found some secret stash of pictures of Jack's – it would have almost been like reading his diary. Which would have been just, Ianto thought to himself, considering that Jack had read _his_ diary and had made that stupid remark about measuring tapes.

Measuring tapes might not lie – but the hands holding them do.

Even so, though the memory card proved that Jack hadn't been sneaking pictures before he'd announced his presence at the pub, it also proved that he had documented everything that had happened after they'd returned to the Hub, including several incidents involving an egg cup that Ianto had hoped would be lost to posterity.

There were a few shaky shots (taken by Gwen, apparently) of Jack and himself setting up the sonic resonator, and there was an exceptionally blurry one that – after Ianto had stared at it for a good five minutes – he realized it was of Jack's bare torso (he'd recognize that birthmark over Jack's hip anywhere). And there was one that Ianto himself had apparently taken, since both Jack and Gwen were in it and Ianto wasn't, and Jack and Gwen were...

Ianto's eyebrows went up.

He didn't remember _that_ happening. But it certainly explained why Jack hadn't had any clothes on this morning.

* * *

The shrill whine of the kettle was what brought Gwen out of her dizzy daze. She staggered into the kitchen to pull the kettle off the stove before it could wake Rhys. The last thing she wanted was Rhys awake to see her like this, the guilt still written plainly on her face. 

She added a generous shot of Irish cream to her instant coffee, to settle her nerves.

She didn't want to hurt Rhys. He deserved better than that. He wasn't some villain to be vanquished, or a foe to be dispatched – if he was, it would have made her feel so much better. But he wasn't. He was her fiancé. He loved her.

And she loved him. She _did_ love him. That wasn't the problem. The problem was...she was crazy.

She was head-over-heels in love with a man who, by his very nature, would never belong to only her. And she was fine with this.

She was loved by a wonderful man who, by _his_ very nature, would remain at her side until they were both old and gray and covered with wrinkles and liver spots. And that scared the living daylights out of her.

She was willing to give up a lifetime with Rhys for Jack, and, what's more, was willing to share Jack. With another man.

She was crazy. Completely barking mad. A raving nutter.

How could you decide something like that? How could you decide to give up the safe, comfortable relationship with a man like Rhys for the uncertain, dangerous world of Jack Harkness? Especially when it was clear that to make such a decision would hurt one of the sweetest men she knew? And especially when Jack had been the one to tell her to hold to that life as hard as she could?

What would happen when she grew old and Jack didn't? Would he leave her – and Ianto – when the signs of their mortality started to appear? Would she and Ianto end up like Estelle, with only their memories and the occasional visit from Jack to keep them going while he remained ever-young?

She took another sip of her spiked coffee, wanting the warmth of the beverage to burn away her dark thoughts. It seemed to do the trick. To a degree, at least. For her thoughts to go away completely, she would have to face what she didn't want to face, and then accept what she found.

Taking a deep breath, she realized that she needed to admit to herself what she hadn't wanted to admit:

That she didn't care if she was crazy or not. That even if it were just a year, or a month, or a week, or a day; even if it were for an _instant_...if it meant that she could, in some way, be with Jack...

There was a beep from her mobile, the signal that she had received a message. Her reverie was forgotten for the moment in the face of a potential excuse to get out of the flat. She ignored how fast her mind switched tracks, as though her conscience sought to bypass her forbidden thoughts completely.

She hoped the message was from Torchwood, that it meant a new case had begun, a new chase was on. If nothing else, she could use the case to distract her from her thoughts, to put off the inevitable moment when she had to tell Rhys that her heart had wandered.

She pulled her mobile out of her purse and checked the messages. It was from earlier this afternoon, sent a few hours after she'd left the Hub.

It was from Ianto. Attached was a picture.

Gwen stared at it.

So that was why Jack hadn't been wearing any clothing...

* * *

A/N: Okay, so I went a little bit 'overboard' with the pirate imagery. But it all fits, I think...so no worries there. Jack is a very roguish figure who seems to be completely lawless (but in a good way)...so whatever. I like it : ) 

Now I just have to come up with a good way to deal with what my sister calls "the Rhys problem." She figures untimely death or permenant vacation. We'll have to see...so tune in next time! Same bat time, same bat channel...and all that.


	6. Blast

A/N: I had some misgivings about this chapter, but since my sister liked it (and she's my beta), I'm going to post it...her advice has worked out so far...

Sweet Jebebus...did everyone see the trailer for the upcoming episode? Oh man. I nearly died. Waiting for Wednesday is going to be absolute torture. Here's hoping that the actual writers of the show have figured out how to solve the "Rhys Problem"!

Hugs and cookies to my readers and reviewers! _Diolch yn fawr_!

**Disclaimer**: You know where it is :)

**Spoilers**: Ummm...not so much.

**Rating**: Same as it ever was. Which is T.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Blast**

The picture was emblazoned on the inside of Gwen's eye lids. _The_ picture. Of her and Jack.

She was certain that, if someone were to scan her retinas, the picture would be scanned too, and put up for all the world to see.

This was bad. Especially because it meant that every time she looked at Jack - or Ianto - it meant that she had to stop her cheeks from flaring up with enough heat to fuel the sun's fusion reaction for the next five hundred years.

Rhys had found her in the living room shortly after she'd received the message. He'd startled her something awful, being as absorbed in her thoughts as she was, and she'd had to make up an excuse for why she'd gotten a message for Torchwood.

"Just an automatic alert," she had said. "Nothing to worry about."

But the taste of a lie was strong in her mouth, and she was sure that Rhys would figure it out. Especially because she'd acted guiltily when he'd glanced down at the phone. And especially because the thoughts that had kept her up were rebounding off the inside of her skull. She had to stop herself from consciously comparing Rhys and Jack. She knew it was unfair. And she was terrified that, however much she tried to avoid it, the idea that Jack was the better man would be written on her face and Rhys would find out.

But at that moment, she had no other choice but to follow Rhys back to bed and try to get some sleep. The picture would have to wait - for now.

Telling herself that didn't help her dreams, however. They ended up being...rather explicit.

* * *

Gwen had fully intended to delete the picture as soon as she got to work, but Jack had greeted her with his usual loud, exuberant greetings, and very quickly distracted her with talk of re-organizing the archival filing system since there was so little rift activity going on. Gwen didn't see what was wrong with the archival filing system as it was, especially since she'd finally just gotten the hang of reading the category numbers, all of which were several digits long, and some of which weren't even in a language based on Earth.

Now Jack was talking about putting it in the Dewey Decimal system, which meant that Gwen was going to have to go learn how it worked since she'd never understood. The current system included things like the date it was found, the coordinates (in x, y, and z format) of where it was found, a string of letters indicating its basic function (if known), followed by the initials of the person who'd logged it. And beneath all that would be a short description of any situations that had occurred when the item was found, to whom and whether or not it was associated with any 'unexplained' events in the normal world above.

Jack apparently wanted to replace that with the Dewey Decimal system. And he wanted her to get started on it today. With Ianto.

He was up to something. She just knew it. No one in their right mind would completely reconstruct a perfectly useful filing system, especially when there was so much to reorganize. Not unless they had an ulterior motive.

Ianto appeared to smell the plot in Jack's actions too, since he had been sharing significant looks with her all morning. But he seemed disinclined to argue with Jack about it. In fact, Ianto seemed unable to meet Jack's eyes at all and probably would have spent the day hiding in the tourist shop upstairs if Jack hadn't assigned him to the Archives with Gwen.

Gwen was also wondering what she'd done wrong. Even if Jack was up to something, Tosh would have been a better choice to work in the Archives, since she seemed to enjoy reveling in data more than Gwen did...but Jack hadn't assigned the job to Tosh, he had assigned it to _her_. No doubt so she and Ianto would get into a conversation about their night of drunken debauchery and give away some secrets which Jack would then glean from the CCTV footage to use against them.

But despite her misgivings about the situation, the work with Ianto went smoothly. This was because Ianto already knew how to use the Dewey Decimal system, and so would do most of the actual conversions while Gwen went and fetched new printouts of the catalogue lists, and artifacts that needed their tags changed.

It was quiet, down in the Archives. The same differential quiet that one finds in an old library. Some of the alien artifacts had been down here since the inception of Torchwood 3. That in itself didn't lend too much a sense of age – how could it, when they lived in a city were the 'new houses' were ones that had been built a mere two hundred years ago? But even so, knowing that some of these things had been in their boxes for over a century was a little awe-inspiring. Especially because there were just so many of them.

"I thought the Dewey Decimal system was only used in libraries," Gwen said. Ianto looked up from where he was waiting for the first print out of artifacts that needed categorization.

"Actually, it's a fairly adaptive system," Ianto said. "It's been through twenty-two major revisions since its creation in 1876 and, because each of the ten classes are further divided each into another ten, and so on, it's infinitely hierarchal."

"Fascinating," Gwen said with a grimace, taking the sheaf of papers from Ianto. She glanced over them. "Looks like we're going to need those infinite hierarchal categories," she muttered. "This list is huge."

"And that's just the first two hundred artifacts."

Gwen sighed. She set to work bringing the first artifact over for classification. Thankfully, it was right near the front of the massive chamber that was the Archives. An efficient quiet settled over them as they set down to work.

"So why couldn't we get Tosh to write a program that does this for us?" Gwen asked after an hour of this. She had begun to chafe at the idea of having to stay down here any longer, doing work that probably didn't need to be done anyway, and all on an apparent whim.

"Not sure," Ianto answered. He grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled something on it. He passed it to her.

_Jack says we need to get better acquainted, _it said.

Gwen stared at it. She grabbed a pen herself, thinking that this reminded her of all those times in high school when she and her best friend would pass notes back and forth to one another. They could carry on an entire conversation like that; sometimes they were hard pressed to keep down the giggles. This didn't seem like that kind of note, however, but more of a way to keep Jack from over hearing whatever it was that Ianto wanted to say. Gwen was just surprised she hadn't thought of it sooner.

_Is this his way of saying that the other night is going to happen more often? _She wrote back.

_I don't know. Perhaps_. _Would you want it to?_

Gwen felt her face go red again. She couldn't bring herself to reply. She looked around to distract herself.

"So what's this do?" she asked randomly, holding up what looked like a simple metal box. It had three depressions on each side, spaced evenly for fingers, or whatever it's original makers had on their potential hands. Apart from that, it was unremarkable. It didn't even have any interesting swirl patters built into the metal, or blinking lights, or any outward indication of its function. Ianto had pulled it out of the vault to write the new categorical designation on its identification tag. It was only the fifth such artifact that they'd gotten to in the hour or more that they'd been down in the Archives.

She fit her fingers into the grooves on both sides.

"Don't - " Ianto began.

There was a flash of not-light. Which is a very strange way of describing it, but it was the only way Gwen could put it into words. The not-light left her dazed and the next she knew, Jack was prying the box out of her hands and looking very worried.

"Gwen? Gwen, look at me."

She blinked slowly.

"What was that?" she asked, looking around. She had a killer headache sitting right over her eyes.

"A camera that takes pictures of things that haven't happened yet," Jack said. "Owen's going to have to give you an anti-radiation shot. And you should go lie down. Ianto too," he added, leaving Gwen to check on Ianto. Ianto was still sitting at the table, pen in one hand, other hand raised to stop Gwen from doing whatever it is she had done.

"Ianto? Ianto!" he snapped his fingers in front of Ianto's face. Ianto blinked and looked around.

"What happened?" Ianto asked.

"Gwen set off the tempograph," Jack said by way of explanation. "Damn it. Where's a medic when you need one?"

"Owen?" Gwen asked, her mind still trying to catch up with current events.

"He and Tosh went to get lunch for everyone, since the stove is still out of commission. My treat," he added. "Come on. I'll help you upstairs."

For the second time in as many days, Gwen found herself supported by Jack, held close to him with one hand while the other was wrapped securely around Ianto. She wondered if this was going to become a habit.

* * *

After Jack had installed Ianto and Gwen in the medical bay – though, he thought sadly, without all the wonderful things he could have said to such a situation as putting them to bed, because both were too dazed to play along – he went back down to the Archives to put the tempograph away. He reflected that, perhaps, putting Gwen down in the archives might have been the wrong decision. Not because Gwen couldn't handle herself, but because she had an uncanny ability to find the one button she shouldn't ever press and then press it. In all innocence, to be sure. But still – one would think that having worked for Torchwood for nearly a year, Gwen would have developed a more cautious kind of curiosity than the one she had now.

The camera that could photograph things that hadn't happened yet, called the 'tempograph' in an attempt to mash two Greek and/or Latin words together to get an interesting pseduo-scientific name, was sitting on the table where Jack had left it. A small, thin, oblong opening had appeared on the top, and a piece of paper was sticking out of it. An image was slowly appearing on the paper.

Jack gingerly pulled the paper out of the opening. It slid shut, and there was no sign that it had even ever been there save for the picture in Jack's hand. The image hadn't fully formed, and consisted mostly of Gwen's startled face and Ianto behind her, hand raised and mid-word when the camera had gone off. Jack knew that the rest of the image hadn't formed yet, that the frozen instant of possible futures hadn't yet been realized.

Grimacing at the picture – he didn't approve of being able to see the future, because such knowledge tended to make people stupid – he put the tempograph back in its box and carried it back down the corridors to its own little vault. The picture he took back upstairs. He left Ianto's notes and printouts on the table.

* * *

By the time Jack reached the main portion of the Hub, Tosh and Owen had returned. They were holding bags of sandwiches and trays of drinks, and were bickering back and forth in the playful banter of a married couple.

"Look, all I'm saying is that you should get out more," Owen was saying. The door rolled shut behind him.

"Oh, so are you going to ask me out then?" Tosh shot back.

"Owen, I need you," Jack said brusquely, interrupting whatever Owen had been about to say. It was counter to Jack's efforts to shake some sense into the pair, but he needed Owen in his official capacity. "Gwen set off the tempograph."

"Bloody hell," Owen muttered. "Medical bay?"

"Her and Ianto."

Owen put the bags of sandwiches down on the nearest desk and made a beeline for the stairs.

"They'll be alright?" Tosh asked. She looked worried.

"Just need a shot and they'll be fine in an hour or so," Jack said.

"I'll put their food in the fridge then," Tosh said, and she took the drinks and the food that Owen had put down away to the kitchen. Jack continued on to his office.

The picture from the tempograph wouldn't finish developing for another hour or so, so Jack put it in a drawer and tried to forget about it. He had other things on his mind. Like the _other_ picture, the one that Ianto had sent Gwen yesterday afternoon. The one of him and Gwen.

Jack had arrived at Ianto's apartment shortly after Ianto had sent the picture to Gwen's phone. Ianto had been a little defiant about the fact that he'd snitched Jack's memory card right out of his pocket. Said since it was material that concerned both himself and Gwen, and because Gwen had given him the order, that it was okay to take the card.

Jack hadn't bothered with lectures. He hadn't needed to. He'd just raised an eyebrow...and Ianto had gotten a look like a lost puppy, and then Jack hadn't been able to do anything other than sigh and forgive him.

Still, Ianto had been appropriately subdued when he'd come into work this morning, and Jack had sent him and Gwen down to the Archives on a meaningless assignment so they could talk about it. This was so Gwen could tell Ianto whether or not she had deleted the message, and because he was certain that – if Gwen was upset about the picture – she would need someone to talk to who knew what was going on. She wouldn't be able to tell Rhys, and she was very unlikely to bring it up with Tosh (and certainly not Owen). This left Jack himself and Ianto, and Ianto was the only practical choice there, since Gwen would probably rather die than bring up that picture with the only other person in it.

So it had to be Ianto and Gwen who got the ridiculous assignment of restructuring the filing system. He was certain Ianto would figure out the ruse, but Gwen might not pick up on it until after she'd imparted the information she'd needed to impart...about what had been done with that picture.

Pictures like that one were practically begging to be found. It was part of the reason why Jack had been in such a hurry to get to Ianto's house after he realized that the memory card had been taken. Indeed, the very fact that Ianto had made off the the pictures to begin with was evidence that these sorts of pictures had a will of their own some times.

But Rhys hadn't come storming down to the Hub, hadn't confronted Gwen, hadn't thrown the fit he deserved to throw, had he seen such a...compromising picture. So that meant that everything was in the clear then, didn't it?

Jack pulled the compass out of his pocket and opened it. Its needle was spinning its lazy spin. He watched it, thinking of nothing. This little instrument, he thought, had so much potential. It could cut down on search time, could show them where to go to find artifacts, could point them in the direction of danger. It also, apparently, worked for anyone who held it. In the wrong hands, it could be a terrible problem.

Good job it wasn't in the wrong hands then.

But...and yet...

Owen appeared from the medical bay, leading an unsteady Gwen and an equally wobbly Ianto. Jack figured the pair should probably be lying down, but being up and around and getting something to eat would likely do them some good as well. Tosh emerged from the kitchen and handed Gwen and Ianto their sandwiches. Gwen was smiling slightly, even though Owen was lambasting her for pressing buttons when she didn't know their function – again.

They were a good looking pair, Gwen and Ianto. Even looking dizzy and ill, or even completely drunk, they each had their own faces. They were unique. They had their own personalities, their own expressions. The were not part of the masses – and if they had been, they wouldn't have been working for Torchwood and Jack wouldn't be in the dilemma that he was in now about them. They were the twin keys to his salvation. His Heart and Soul, if he wanted to get poetic about it.

Luckily for him, they were both hot.

He knew that they were ephemeral, mortal. Delicate. He knew that. More than anyone currently living, he knew that. And yet, he didn't care.

The compass could work on a deliberate want – something you decided that you wanted to find. But it also read your deepest desires, and showed you where to go. It could tell you where to go before you even knew what you really wanted. It had shown him where to go.

It was telling him now.

There was a chance that it would all go wrong. But he didn't care. Even if it meant that he had only an instant in the sun, only a brief moment in which to bask in the light, he would take it. Selfish, yes, since that light would come with a dire cost. But every moment was worth it.

_They _were worth it.

Snap. The compass closed. He put it into his pocket, plastered a genuine grin across his face and sauntered out into the hub.

"Where's my sandwich?" he asked loudly.

* * *

A/N: The Dewey Decimal system... Sometimes even _I_ wonder where I come up with this stuff, so you're not alone there. I had to do some research on it (good ol' Wikipedia helped a lot there), which is where Ianto's comment comes from...and yes, it is used for libraries. Though, I'm sure it could be used to catalogue alien artifacts as well, if you reassigned the definition of the ten parent categories to...okay, I'll shut up now. :)

Ummm...the 'tempograph'. I can't actually remember whether or not the root words I've smashed together are Greek or Latin. I suppose it doesn't matter one way or the other, since both languages have contributed a hefty amount of words to modern English (and even to each other)...but it literally means 'time-picture', the same way that 'photograph' means 'light-picture'.

Anyway, the point of all this is that I made up the word 'tempograph', even though it's probably been used for something else that has nothing to do with taking pictures of things that haven't happened yet...but moving on. :)

Hope you enjoyed this one as much as the others. I've already got a hefty start on the next chapter, so it should be along in a couple of days, barring life-changing accidents...


	7. A Hard Man is Good to Find

A/N: Soooo...I saw tonight's episode. I liked it. I really did. What I didn't like about it, I've mentioned in the author's note at the bottom because I don't want to spoil it for those who haven't seen it yet. But apart from that it was a damn good episode.

Now, down to business!

Happy birthday to **I've Lost My Profile Page**, and to everyone else whose birthday was yesterday. And today, too, if anyone. _Diem natalum_!

Also, my thanks to my readers and reviewers! I don't care how repetitive it gets to thank you at the beginning of each chapter; I'm writing for you, and you're the reason I keep writing (it's not just for the review/crack; honest ;). So thank you!

**Disclaimer**: Do I really need to keep putting this here?

**Rating**: Yes

**Spoilers**: Not really

* * *

**Chapter Seven: A Hard Man is Good to Find**

After their work was done, after Gwen and Ianto had recovered from their exposure to that blasted tempograph, and after it was apparent that nothing else of interest was going to happen that day, Jack declared that he was going to go have a drink, and that everyone was invited to come along if they wanted. They'd all acquiesced; no one had wanted to go home just yet.

So the staff of Torchwood Three – all five of them – were gathered in their pub. They were sitting in a booth that was practically identical in every way to the one that Jack had found Gwen and Ianto at two nights before, but the biggest difference between that booth and this one was that most of the empties didn't belong to Gwen and Ianto. And it had a different picture above it, but no one was really looking at that.

Jack had stolen the seat at the top of the arch, with Gwen and Ianto on either side of him, Tosh and Owen on their respective ends, facing one another across the table. Tosh and Owen were smiling warmly at one another. Jack had to approve, however odd it seemed to see Owen smiling warmly at anyone.

In the middle of the table was an over-sized plate of nachos with all the toppings. It had been mightily picked over. All that was left now were a few chips, some baked-on cheese, and the odd jalapeño pepper, along with a blob of sour cream.

Jack had his arms around Gwen and Ianto, and was deep into a humorous story involving magic mushrooms and someone else's pizza, the police and – the reason for which no one there could figure out – a small hammer head shark. Everyone else were holding their bellies as they laughed. It was the general result when Jack started in with his famous opener, "did I ever tell you about the time..."

Eventually the story wound down, and Tosh and Owen (being on the end of the arch) went for more drinks.

"So," said Gwen as she polished off the last of her nachos. "The Dewey Decimal system? Really?"

Jack had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"It's a good system," he said defensively.

"For libraries," Ianto put in.

"But it makes a rather thin excuse," Gwen finished for him.

Jack looked from one to the other and then smiled disarmingly.

"Alright, you got me," he said. "I just wanted you and Ianto to talk."

"Like you wanted Tosh and Owen to talk?" Gwen challenged.

"Yeah. And it worked out nicely for them," Jack said. He gestured to the bar, where Tosh and Owen were leaning together. They had their heads close together. They couldn't see Owen's face, but Tosh's was lit up with a smile brighter than the sun; she was laughing at something Owen had said. They hadn't even gotten the attention of the bartender yet.

"It could have easily backfired," Gwen said.

"It didn't," Jack said firmly. He liberated one arm from around Gwen's shoulders and drained the rest of his drink.

Gwen shook her head, and finished off her own drink. She tried to ignore the sense of loss from the removal of his touch.

"So what did you want us to talk about?" she asked. Jack put his arm back around her shoulders.

"That picture, for one," Jack said, and marveled at how quickly Gwen's face went red.

"Oh," she said.

Ianto suddenly found his empty glass to be exceptionally interesting.

Gwen took a deep breath.

"What about it?" she asked. She looked nervously at Ianto, hoping that, maybe, he'd interject something into the conversation that would drag Jack off course. No such luck.

"Ianto sent it to you," Jack said.

"He did."

"And?"

"And...what?" she countered. "I haven't shown it to anyone, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried about that," Jack said. "I don't care who sees it, really. Mostly. It's _you_ I'm worried about."

"Me?"

"Yes, you," he answered. He leaned closer to her, close enough that his breath was hot against her cheek. "I care about you, Gwen."

Gwen met his gaze evenly, her heart thudding in her chest. She was sure he could hear it. Hell, she was sure Ianto could hear it, and he was on the other side of Jack. She wasn't entirely sure how to respond, either to his line of inquiry or to his sentiments. Truth be told, the fact that he cared about her made her happy. Very happy. She decided to show it.

She smiled. He looked a little taken aback at that, as though he had been expecting her to argue rather than back down, but he smiled right back.

"Thank you, Jack," she said. She reached up and squeeze his hand.

He tightened his arms, drawing Gwen and Ianto closer to him.

"I care about both of you," he said.

With matching sighs, Gwen and Ianto leaned their heads on Jack's shoulders, and for a brief moment, they felt at peace.

"What we miss?" Owen asked as he and Tosh appeared with confused faces and arms full of alcohol.

Gwen and Ianto sat up in unison and scooted a little away from Jack, back to their previous seats. Jack just laughed.

"Did you bring the bottle?" he joked as Tosh began passing around the drinks in her hands, a blatant diversionary tactic. Tosh and Owen shared a quick look and then shrugged.

"Who ordered the Sex On A Beach?" Tosh asked, even though the answer was obvious and sitting at the other end of the table, grinning.

"Mine's the blue one," Gwen said. Owen handed her the blue girly drink. It had a paper umbrella in it. Ianto got another rum and soda, and Tosh and Owen each had a beer.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I earned the nickname Captain Jack Hard-ass?" Jack asked, and before anyone could tell him that, yes, they had heard it, he launched into the narrative. This one had hand gestures, and he nearly spilled his drink down Ianto's back.

* * *

Some time later, Gwen and Ianto had Jack all to themselves. Tosh and Owen had gone, each citing different reasons, but each watching the other. Tosh had been blushing, and with more than alcohol. Gwen was quite sure that the pair wouldn't part ways just yet. 

She stretched. It was probably time to head home herself. Rhys would likely be wondering where she was. She realized that she hadn't called him yet, and figured she should probably get on that. In a minute. For now (and this was probably the alcohol thinking) she just wanted to sit by Jack a little while longer. She didn't want to go home. Just yet.

"We should probably settle up and get out of here," Jack said, echoing her thoughts. "There's a good chance our run of limited rift activity will end. We couldn't possibly be that lucky."

"You're right," Gwen said. She pulled some bills out of her pocket and dropped them on the table to cover her third of the tab. Ianto did the same, and Jack threw in his own third, plus tip.

They parted ways in front of the pub. Ianto and Gwen were going to cut up to one of the main roads and catch a cab to their respective flats, and Jack was bound for the Hub. Gwen found herself reluctant to leave. She realized that she was trying to think up excuses to return to the Hub with Jack. And Ianto to, if it came to it.

"Good night," Jack said, and kissed them both good-bye. He strode off down the road, greatcoat billowing around him. It made for a wonderful exit.

Gwen put her hand to her lips, her eyes wide. The kiss had been brief and chaste. And he had kissed Ianto first. But somehow, as she and Ianto set off up the road to find a cab, that one brief, chaste kiss had held the promise of more fire and passion than...

She stopped that thought. It was a dangerous thought. It was a true thought, but still. She had a hard enough time not comparing Rhys to Jack; she hardly needed more ammunition.

* * *

The first thing Jack did when he got back to the Hub was feed Myfanwy. The second thing he did was feed Janet. The third thing he did was go to his desk and pull open the drawer where he'd stuffed the tempograph's picture, and look at it. 

It had fully developed.

He shouldn't be looking at it, he knew. Seeing glimpses of the future made people – himself included – do stupid things, either in an attempt to change what they'd seen, or bring it about. Added to this was the idea that things happened because you'd seen them happening, a strange sort of time loop that had given him headaches even when he had been with the Time Agency.

But at the moment, he didn't care about all that. He wanted to know what the picture showed.

The predominant image was still Gwen's startled face. Jack smiled at that; she was so cute when she was surprised. Behind her was Ianto, caught in the act of telling Gwen to put down the tempograph. The rest of the room they'd been sitting in was covered in smaller images, images branching from larger into smaller ones, like fractals. The possible futures.

He dug in his drawer for a magnifying glass.

In the top, right hand corner, a very pregnant Gwen was smiling at someone, but Jack couldn't see who. Spiraling off from that were a myriad of images, many of them too small to see, but most of them involving babies.

In the top left hand corner were Gwen and Ianto. Kissing. While he watched.

Jack's eyebrows shot up into his hairline and threatened to set up camp and not come back down. And here he'd thought that that was an impossible thing, and suitable only for fantasy material when he was alone in the Hub and terribly bored.

"Interesting," he murmured to himself. He stared at that for a good long while before he managed to shake himself free of it and look at the fractal images spinning away from it. All three of them were in those images, laughing, fighting (aliens and each other), being domestic – together. A happy future overall, it seemed. He stared at that corner for a while, a little happy that this was a possible future, but knowing that there was a very, very slim chance that it would ever come about. Sighing, he moved on to the third image.

It was in the bottom left hand corner of the main image. Rhys. He looked happy. He was sitting at a bar, next to a redheaded woman with green eyes (also smiling). They were toasting something. Immediately next to that were several smaller images, all of Rhys and this redhead. In some they were kissing, in some they were just sitting there. And in one, almost too small to see, they were standing in front of the altar.

Jack sat back in his chair, and put his hands behind his head.

This was precisely why people shouldn't see the future, he mused. Because now he wanted to go out and find that redhead and, in some way, influence events so that she and Rhys would meet. Something occurred to him, and he sat up again, scanning the picture before him. It was like playing "Where's Waldo" with a keleidoscope. Eventually he found what he was looking for, tucked away in in the very bottom of the right hand corner, so small that it seemed almost to go unnoticed. Gwen and Rhys' wedding.

He sat back again.

It had never been determined whether the size of the image of the potential futures had anything to do with the chance of them coming to fruition. The trouble that the tempograph had caused the last time was such that further experimentation on it was deemed unnecessary, and it was locked away. That had been before Gwen had been recruited.

He examined the images some more. There was another, just above the one of Gwen's wedding, a tiny picture with its own tiny images spiraling away. He could just make out Gwen, wearing what looked like the same clothes that she'd had on at the pub. There was a figure standing next to her, on a street corner. Ianto? Perhaps. He had his arm up, probably calling for a taxi. Gwen was smiling.

Jack frowned. The fact that Gwen was smiling wasn't what made him frown. Beneath the larger image was its fractalized image. Squinting, Jack could barely make it out.

His eyes went wide, and he dropped the picture and magnifying glass. He sprang from his chair. On the way by, he pulled his coat off the hook so quickly that the coat rack toppled, landing with a crash behind him as he bolted for the door. He would have taken the lift for speed if he hadn't needed the SUV.

The door couldn't roll back fast enough.

* * *

Gwen came to in the back of a car. She looked around, staring blearily around her as she tried to determine her surroundings. Someone was talking in the front seat. She recognized the voices. 

"Jack?"

Jack was driving, and couldn't look around. Ianto peered around from the front seat.

"She's awake," he said. He had a small cut on his forehead.

"What's going on?" Gwen asked.

"A common mugger," Jack growled. "All the aliens in the universe come through our door at all hours, and you almost get stabbed by a common mugger. In Cardiff!"

"He hit you on the head from behind, with a half-brick in a sock." Ianto explained when Jack's fuming rant had faded into a mutter, "and tried to get me to hand over my wallet at knife point. And then Jack showed up."

Ianto glanced at Jack, a mixture of worry and relief colouring his features.

"What about the mugger?" Gwen asked, trying to sit up in the swaying car. She gave up after minute, after Jack swerved suddenly, apparently avoiding a car that wasn't going fast enough for his liking.

"He won't be mugging anyone for a while," Jack said. Gwen had never heard that much grim satisfaction in someone's voice before.

"What did you do?" she asked, a little worried. Jack, when the mood took him, could deliver his own brand of justice swifter than an avenging angel. It could be somewhat troublesome. And, the part of her mind that was still a little tipsy from earlier piped up, really hot.

"I took care of him," Jack barked. "And now I'm taking care of you. We're going to the Hub."

"I think I'm alright," Gwen said, though her head was hurting something awful. She lifted a hand to the back of her skull. No blood, but there was a pretty good chance of a concussion.

"You're not alright," Jack said, in a voice that brooked no argument. He must be really pissed off, Gwen thought. The only time he used this tone of voice was when something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

"Shouldn't I be going to a hospital then?"

"We're going to the Hub. There's better equipment there."

"I think I have a concussion," Gwen said, thinking that maybe this would convince Jack, who seemed to be hell bent on swerving in and out of traffic, to perhaps go to the nearest hospital instead.

"Then we're going to have to keep you up all night," Ianto said, more as an attempt to lighten the mood than to suggest anything should happen.

"Yes, we are," Jack said, and then grinned and evil grin.

Gwen leaned back in the seat and tried to keep her stomach from spinning out of control. She hoped Jack would pay her the same courtesy with the car.

They reached the Hub in what Gwen figured was record time. This led her to believe that she hadn't been unconscious for that long – likely a good thing, considering how she'd been made unconscious to begin with. Jack parked the SUV in the garage and then tossed the keys to Ianto when he got out.

The back door opened. Jack's arms reached in and gentle hands grasped her and pulled her out. He swung her up into his arms with barely a hitch in his breath. He was strong. She looked up at him, certain her face was starting to go red again. She would have insisted on walking, but something in his face stopped her.

His jaw was set, his eyes hard. For an instant, he looked at her with such a possessive quality that her breath caught. His eyes flickered to Ianto, but the possessiveness didn't fade; it included him. If there had been an outside world to scream to just then, Jack's body language would have been screaming '_mine', _with such force that even Gwen trembled a little to think of it. And then he looked back down at her.

His face softened. His arms tightened around her, pulling her close to his chest, encouraging her to wrap one arm around his neck and rest her head on his shoulder. She did so. Her hand automatically went to the soft hair at the nape of his neck and she wrapped her fingers around it. She felt the shiver run up his spine, felt him sigh out the breath that he must have been holding. She thought again of the warmth she had woken to two days before, of the sight of his bare behind vanishing into his office; of him standing, dripping in the middle of the Hub, wrapped only in a towel; his arms around her at the pub, and the quick, chaste kiss he'd given her in parting; her thoughts of yesternight, when she had realized that she loved him.

All of this in an instant, thought of more as emotions than actual images or words. It left her breathless.

He glanced at Ianto again, but this time it was to let him know that it was time to go down into the Hub. Ianto moved ahead, opening the various doors as he did so.

As Jack carried her down into the Hub, Gwen realized that the saying was true; a hard man is indeed a good thing to find.

* * *

A/N: So. They didn't solve the 'Rhys problem'. They compounded it. 

But it was still a good episode.

But I _knew_ they were going to do that! I just knew it! Those writers are going to get a whap upside the head if I ever meet them, because of what they did with the whole 'hug-from-behind-mirror-scene'. You know which I mean. Argh! And all the pointed comments! Don't they know that that wasn't how it was supposed to end?

And now, next week's episode has clowns in it, and I _hate_ clowns. They give me the wiggins.

It was still a really good episode, though. Well written, despite the obvious bits they got wrong.

Right. Deep breath. Moving on! Thanks all, for reading. Next chapter will be along when its along :) Hope you liked this one...

* * *

PS: I've updated the ending of this, since I was never that fond of it as it was. It didn't quite end so much as stop, which is never a good way to leave a story. So sorry 'bout that; hopefully this works better.

SSA (March 8, 2008)


	8. Concussion

A/N: First off, I've gone and added a few paragraphs to the end of the last chapter; I hadn't ended it properly, so I fixed it. Hope you like what I added. It's not much, just an effort to make everything flow better.

Secondly, my third left maxillary molar is rebelling against the common order, and since it's the weekend, the dentist's office is closed...so I'm kinda swimming in Lake Ibuprofen, and wishing I could make it up to Painkiller Island, where the morphine derivatives grow on trees. So if anything I've written makes no sense whatsoever, that's why. Just thought I should warn you...

Thirdly (but certainly not least): HUGS AND COOKIES FOR ALL!

**Disclaimer**: The usual

**Rating**: T...still.

**Warning**: I'm packing this full of Jack/Gwen fluff, since I figure we all need some after Wednesday. It may get trite, but I'm hoping it doesn't. It's also my longest chapter to date (I think...for this, anyway; I've got stories whose chapters are 18 pages long), but you guys don't mind that, do you :)

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Concussion **

Jack insisted on fussing over her like a mother hen.

"I'm fine," she insisted for the fifteenth time. "Really. I'm not made of porcelain."

"You sure?" he asked, a ghost of smile playing across his face.

"Make all the jokes you want about me being hard-headed," Gwen said. She smiled; she couldn't help but remember that if she hadn't been in the hospital getting her head patched up, she never would have seen Jack run up the stairs, never would have seen her first Weevil, never would have joined Torchwood. "I'm fine, Jack. Really."

Still, he ran his fingers through her hair, ostensibly checking for scalp wounds, but really just enjoying the feel of her hair running through his fingers. He stopped before it got too obvious, though, and checked Ianto's scalp. Even though Ianto's hair was much shorter and a scalp wound would have been much more obvious, and Jack knew for a fact that Ianto hadn't been hit in he head.

After he assured himself that Gwen and Ianto were okay, and after he'd given them both painkillers, Jack nipped up to the garage.

When he returned, he was dragging a man by the collar through he Hub. Gwen and Ianto shared a look, and followed.

"Is that the man who tried to mug us?" Gwen asked. She hadn't seen him before, seeing as how she was hit from behind.

"Yes," Ianto answered. "That's him."

"He was in the trunk?"

"Best place for him," Ianto said with a shrug.

The man looked a little worse for wear. One leg of his jeans had been torn and he was sporting a black eye and a split lip and a myriad of other bruises. Apart from that, he was a weedy looking fellow, skinny and short. Brown hair was perched on his head like a greasy toupee. He wasn't exactly the best of specimens.

Gwen put a hand on the back of her head. A half-brick in a sock; the man must have been desperate for cash to resort to a half-brick in a sock when he could have just opened wallet negotiations with a knife. And why had he gone for her, when Ianto was clearly the bigger threat? To cow him into handing over the money faster? Maybe his arms weren't long enough; maybe he thought that by taking out the smaller of the two, he could prove himself with the larger. Maybe he was just nuts and hit the first person he came to with a half-brick in a sock. Maybe he hadn't perceived Ianto as a threat.

Gwen decided to not mention this last to Ianto. He was just coming into his own, the Torchwood Teaboy. The last thing he needed was a blow to the ego like that.

"Do we know what his name is?" Gwen asked Ianto as they followed Jack and his prisoner through the Hub.

"Huw David," Ianto answered. "He's local; wanted by the police on a several assault and battery charges, petty theft and similar."

"So, just run a run-of-the-mill criminal?" Gwen asked.

"Looks like."

"What's Jack doing with him then?"

"Teaching him a lesson."

Ianto had, in fact, asked Jack what he'd planned on doing with their prisoner. Jack had replied tersely that no one hurt his team. But Ianto had noticed the slight hesitation before Jack had said 'team', the hitch in his voice that betrayed the fact that Jack had almost said something else. What that something else was, Ianto wasn't sure. But the emphasis Jack put on the possessive pronoun was...startling in its intensity. Ianto had decided not to press the issue.

Gwen, who had still been out cold when this exchange had taken place, was still trying to get her aching head around the idea of being smacked with a half-brick in a sock. She wasn't one for revenge, so she didn't see why Jack just didn't turn Huw over to the police and leave it at that. The incident didn't involve extra terrestrials, or inter-dimensional travelers or rampaging millionaires collecting dangerous alien artifacts; it hardly fell under the jurisdiction of Torchwood.

The idea that Jack was teaching a mugger a lesson because he'd messed with those Jack held in highest regard would never have occurred to her.

By now they had reached the first level of the cells. Jack dragged the would-be mugger before the middle one. Ianto grabbed the anti-Weevil spray just in case Jack had something drastic planned.

Huw David started to yammer as soon as he saw Janet. Janet threw herself at the plexiglass. The other prisoner tried to back up, but couldn't move because Jack had a hold of him.

"Jack, what are you doing?" Gwen asked. Jack didn't answer.

"So, Huw," Jack said conversationally. "Believe me now?"

Gwen looked askance at Ianto, but Ianto wasn't paying attention to her. Clearly she was missing some part of what had happened. She pushed past Ianto and laid a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Jack?"

Jack looked down at her. The stony look softened a little, around the eyes. Huw managed to take his eyes off Janet long enough to give the pair a considering look – which rapidly turned to guilt, and then fear, as he realized the true scope of who he had just tried to mug.

"Look, I didn't know she was your wife," he babbled. "I wouldn't have...if I'd known..."

All three looked down at the babbling prisoner. Huw tried to fold in on himself more, if that were possible. The effect was rather pathetic. Janet chose that moment to charge the plexiglass gain, startling everyone but Jack as she did so.

Jack held their prisoner in front of Janet for another few moments, to let whatever message he was trying to impart sink in, and then dragged him back past Gwen and Ianto.

Gwen and Ianto shared a look, and followed Jack again.

* * *

Huw David ended up slightly retconned and dumped out in front of a police station. Jack left Gwen and Ianto at the Hub while he made the drop off, with orders to keep Gwen awake by whatever means necessary.

"And that," he told them, with a slight leer, "can be interpreted whatever way you want. Just keep in mind that the video camera and extra film is – oh, Ianto knows where it is – just don't forget to film whatever you do for posterity's sake, and so I can watch it later."

This suggestion was met with blank stares. He left them with a grin.

When he got back, Gwen and Ianto were sitting on the couch under the ceramic wall, drinking coffee and chatting. They both looked up and smiled when Jack walked through the rolling door. Jack's mood had lightened considerably after he'd dumped the mugger out at the police station. He had left enough evidence (both real and manufactured) to make sure that Huw stayed in jail for a long time.

Gwen would likely tell him to be more compassionate, but he wasn't sorry. Dumping the man out at the police station, instead of summarily executing him _was_ the compassionate course of action. No two-bit mugger threatened Gwen or Ianto. Not on his watch.

He knew that Ianto could have easily handled the mugger himself. Gwen too could have quite easily taken care of that skinny wretch herself, if she hadn't been knocked into unconsciousness so quickly. His presence hadn't been necessary.

But that didn't matter. He had seen the potential future in the tempographic picture, seen its own fractal of infinite outcomes, and had made a split second decision to interfere. Not simply because he was trying to influence events – though he couldn't lie to himself and pretend that what he had done _hadn't_ influenced events, and that he'd set out to be an influence, but it wasn't just that. Rather, he had acted from a very basic human drive to protect what belonged to him.

One thing was for sure, though. He certainly wasn't going to be showing either Gwen or Ianto the tempographic picture. Not in a million years.

"So no video?" he asked in mock disappointment.

"No," Ianto said dryly. "We couldn't find the tripod."

Jack's eyebrow went up, and several choice comments about tripods went through his mind. Gwen laughed.

"How much longer should I stay awake?" Gwen asked before Jack could say anything smart.

"Actually," Jack said, "you should probably be resting now. If I remember my concussion procedure correctly, we just have to wake you up every few hours to make sure you haven't got any serious brain damage."

"I'm safe to go home then?"

"I'd rather you slept here," Jack said, a little too quickly. "You still have alcohol in your system, and I would hate for anything to go wrong. Plus," he added when Gwen started to make a face, "if the equipment we've got here can't help you, nothing in any modern hospital will be any better."

Gwen thought about this for a second, and then nodded. "Rhys has to work early tomorrow, so I can't get him to keep waking me up," Gwen said with a shake of her head. "I guess you're right."

"Marvelous!" Jack said, rubbing his hands together. "Lots of room in my bed, so don't worry." He caught the look on her face and grinned. "Just kidding. I'll set you up a bed in the medical bay."

"Thanks, Jack." Gwen said. "Just let me call Rhys."

* * *

While Gwen was off calling Rhys, either to let him know what was going on or to make something up, Jack and Ianto went down to the kitchen to see about a snack. Ianto immediately set about redoing everything that Jack had done to tidy the place up after the sonic resonator had blown. Jack just shook his head at the younger man's mild obsessive compulsive tendencies.

"You're welcome to stay tonight too," Jack said, rummaging in the fridge as Ianto rearranged the counter. "And you don't have to stay down in the medical bay."

Ianto considered this.

"I think I'll pass, tonight," he said.

"You sure?"

"I am. You and Gwen should talk. After all, that picture was of you two. I just took it. Apparently," he added because he couldn't actually remember.

Jack stood up, sandwich materials in hand.

"You think so?" he asked. Ianto was surprised to detect a note of uncertainty in Jack's voice.

"Yes," Ianto replied. "Especially after how we woke up the other day. I'm surprised she hasn't tried to talk to you sooner."

"She's been rather occupied," Jack muttered and turned away.

"And you've been avoiding the issue," Ianto admonished gently.

The lid of the mayo clattered on the counter top. Jack didn't know quite what to say, so he continued making the sandwich.

"Maybe I have been," Jack said after a minute. "I should have just talked to both of you, rather than shunt you down to the Archives on some made up job."

"Too right, sir," Ianto said, but when Jack looked up at him, Ianto was smiling.

"Next time, I'll know better."

Ianto laughed. "If there is a next time."

"Just you wait," Jack said. "I have plans."

"You would."

"Can't say Rhys was too thrilled," Gwen said, announcing her presence. "But he understands why I have to stay."

"Ah. Good." Jack said, presenting Gwen with the sandwich. "I made you a snack, courtesy of the Torchwood Deli."

"Thanks," she said uncertainly. She hadn't thought Jack would have been the domestic type, but the evidence, piled high with slices of roast beef and veggies, was right in front of her. She had to admit, though, it smelled wonderful. Jack had even included a pickle.

Ianto, who stocked the fridge against the constant flow of pizza, shopped at the Central Market even though it was on the other side of town from the Hub. The ingredients were fresh. One of the benefits of being part of an organization that had, practically, an unlimited budget.

"Thanks," she said again, a little more assured of herself.

"Anything for milady," Jack said in a fake London accent. He pulled out a seat for her at the table, which still smelled a little like frying oil, but not too badly. He made as if to make more sandwiches, but Ianto had already beaten him to it. Jack sat down at the table as Gwen ate.

* * *

Ianto left a few hours later. Jack kissed him good-bye again. Gwen even gave him a kiss on the cheek, a small token of thanks for watching her back earlier in the night. And then it was just Jack and Gwen.

The Hub was quiet. After the door had rolled shut behind Ianto, Jack had vanished to some distant room of the Hub to find her something to sleep in. He had offered her the shirt off his back, but she'd said with a smile that she'd rather a pair of the silky Weevil pajamas like the ones Janet had. Jack went off to oblige.

It was strange, being one of the only people in the Hub. The computers hummed quietly, matching the noise from the generators. Water trickled in a constant stream down the outside of the rift manipulator, adding to the small pond at the bottom. Light rippled off the surface. Even Myfanwy was in her nest, likely asleep. There was no sign of the pterodactyl in the rafters.

Gwen sat on the couch under the ceramic wall and listened to the sounds of the sleeping Hub. She couldn't help but feel a little nervous. It was the first time since they'd found the compass that she would be spending any amount of time alone with Jack – certainly the first since she had come to her realization about him. She half expected something to happen – and half was afraid that something would. And then her mind would change, and she would be half afraid that something _wouldn't_ happen.

She was still trying to decide whether or not she wanted something to happen between her and Jack when Jack returned from his mission to find her some pajamas.

The pair he brought her were about five sizes too large.

"Sorry about that," Jack said when he handed them to her. "You took the last small pair home."

"They're in the wash," Gwen said, blushing slightly as she remembered _why _she had needed the purple Weevil pantsuit to begin with. "I'll run fetch them tomorrow, if you want."

"No need, for now," Jack said dismissively. "Just change into those and I'll go set up your bed."

* * *

When Gwen arrived down in the medical bay, she was holding her pajamas up in one hand. The shirt was so large that she'd left her own shirt on underneath for modesty's sake. It looked like she was wearing a purple silk tent.

In fact, she thought, as soon as Jack left for the night she was going to abandon the pants all together, since the shirt was even bigger than Ianto's had been, and was large enough that should could have quite easily made five or six shirts out of it.

"What sort of a Weevil were these made for?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, you never know what size we'll get," Jack said, trying to make a dirty joke though his heart wasn't in it just then. He was too busy being distracted by Gwen in her over-sized pajamas. They looked just about ready to fall off her. He wondered if she would mind if he helped. But he kept these thoughts to himself and indicated the bed before him. The covers were pulled back invitingly, and he had added a few more blankets. There was also a large glass of water next to the bed, and a selection of reading material.

Of course, the selection of reading material in the Hub consisted mostly of old reports and technical manuals. Hardly intellectually stimulating fare, unless you were the type to enjoy writing so dry it could rival the Sahara. So Jack had added a little something special of his own: several first edition (and mostly autographed) copies of various classic novels. He'd brought them along, feeling oddly excited to be letting Gwen know that he even had them, let alone allow her to touch one of them.

"Your chariot awaits, madam," he said with a bow and a flourish.

"Thank you, kind sir," Gwen replied in kind, and climbed up into the bed. Or tried to, at least. The over-sized pants made it incredibly difficult for her to get her leg up without letting go. And if she let go, it would have resulted in the pants falling to her ankles. She managed it eventually, however, though Jack didn't stop grinning at her the whole time.

"So...how's this all going to work, then?" she asked when she finally got under the covers and comfortable.

"Well, I'm going to read you a bedtime story – just one! - and then it's lights out for you, Missy."

"Jack," Gwen said warningly

"Okay, fine. Once you're asleep, I'll wait a few hours, wake you up, ask you a few questions. You get the questions right, you get to go back to sleep. If not, I assume brain damage and call Owen to come poke at you until you're fixed. Got it?"

"Got it," Gwen replied with a smile. She settled herself down in the bed, and was surprised when Jack leaned over her, pulling the covers up to her chin. He smoothed them down around her shoulders, taking the opportunity to trace the lines of her arms. He smiled to himself as she shivered at the contact.

When she was all tucked in, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Sleep well," he said, and straightened. He turned out most of the lights as he left, leaving only the one at the bedside table on for her to read by if she so wished.

But Gwen didn't move after Jack left. She just lay there, watching the door, wishing he would return.

* * *

The first time Jack woke her up, Gwen answered all of the standard questions without pause, though she groaned at being pulled from her dreams. Jack tucked her back in with another kiss on the forehead, but this time, Gwen was asleep again before she had time to contemplate how nice it was or whether or not she wanted him to do it again. Or that, next time, she would move last minute and kiss him properly...

The second time Gwen woke up, she thought she was still dreaming. The Hub was quiet, humming with subdued computer fans and the whir of the generators far below. She felt like she was floating. There was a steady, rhythmic thump-thumping below her right ear. She opened her eyes a little.

"Jack?" she asked, focusing on the first thing in front of her. It was an arm. Jack's arm.

"Name, rank and serial number?" Jack asked quietly. Gwen could hear the joke in his voice though.

"I remember who I am," she said. "But I'm not so sure where you're taking me."

"You're dreaming. Go back to sleep."

"You sure?" she asked. The steady rhythm of his heart beat was hypnotic. Her eyes drifted closed. "Because I've had this dream before. It never ends well."

"Really." It was only half a question. "How does it end?" he asked, almost dreading the answer.

"Rhys always wakes me up," Gwen murmured into his chest.

There was nothing Jack could say to that. Even if he had, he missed his chance to say it. Her breathing slowed again, and she was asleep.

* * *

The third time she woke up, she was not in the bed that she had gone to sleep in. She vaguely remembered the second time she'd woken, the weightless feeling, and the sight of Jack's arm, the sound of his heart beating under her ear. A murmured conversation between them as they went. He must have carried her here.

His arms were wrapped tightly around her. She was in his bed.

She didn't care.

She rolled over to look at him.

He had said once that he didn't sleep. If she hadn't known about his voracious sexual appetites, she would have wondered at the purpose of a bed, even one in a hole in his office floor as this one was.

Jack was asleep. Breathing softly, his eyes closed; he was _asleep_. All the hardness was gone from his features. He looked well and truly at peace. Even in sleep a slight smile graced his features. His hair was tousled, falling over one side of his face.

There were a lot of things she could have done in reaction to finding herself in her boss' bed again. She could have jumped up, angry and yelling. She could have punched him awake and demanded and explanation. She could have slipped out silently, guilt ridden and thinking of her fiancé. She did none of these things.

Instead, she did what she really, really wanted to do. She'd wanted to do this for the last couple of days, ever since she'd woken up here in Ianto's shirt.

She brushed the hair from his eyes, kissed him gently, snuggled in closer, and went back to sleep.

* * *

A/N: So...too sappy? Or just right? Did it make coherent sense, or did the painkillers cloud my brain too much? Lemmie know... 


	9. FUBAR

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update...longer than I usually take, I think...anyway, it wasn't that I lost my plot bunny or anything; more like the words were getting jammed up in my head. And no, this isn't the painkillers talking because my tooth has decided to repent and rejoin the happy world of Dental Arc. Hopefully it won't start acting up again, because...ouch.

But yeah...because the words were getting jammed up in my head, this chapter still doesn't feel right to me. I'm going to post it anyway, because everyone's been so wonderfully patient. So if stuff's OOC, or just bad...I'll prolly fix it later when the other ideas have stopped vying for my attention...good enough? 

(I keep tyring to put a smily face at the end of the last sentence to make sure you guys know I'm not being snarky, but the damn auto formatting either takes out the question mark or removes the smily face. So...yeah...I'm not being snarky. :)

By the way...If anyone's ever in the mood for some excellently written Jack/Gwen smut, I suggest you should go read _Alone Together_ by kateg123 and _How To Properly Seduce Someone_ by PassionPoet. Because...hot damn!

MIGHTY AND SPLENDIFEROUS THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ AND/OR REVIEWED!

**Disclaimer**: Blah

**Rating**: T

**Spoilers**: Not really...

* * *

**Chapter Nine: FUBAR**

"Sir."

The word drew him from his slumber. A soft weight on the bed at his lower back and a hand on his shoulder, and the outside world crept in.

"Sir, it's morning."

"Ianto?" Jack asked. He opened his eyes quickly, the sharp intake of breath a sure sign of his fear that the last night was simply a dream. He sighed when he realized that Gwen was still curled up beside him, still asleep. Still real. 

"Tosh and Owen are waiting up in the boardroom," Ianto said quietly, trying not to wake Gwen.

Jack looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms. At some point in the night, she had curled up into a ball, the covers tucked close to her neck. About the only part of her that was visible above the blankets was the top of her head and the tangled mass of her hair. 

"What have you told them?" Jack asked. He didn't ask what time it was. He knew what time it was, because Tosh and Owen were upstairs waiting for the morning briefing. He wondered if he should panic, and then decided that the best way to handle this was to act as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Let Gwen panic if she needed to. He'd be there to calm her down. 

"Nothing," Ianto answered with a shrug. "I didn't know how you wanted to handle this. What would you rather I tell them?"

"Nothing, for now. Just let them know that the meeting's postponed and to get on with whatever tasks they had yesterday and didn't finish."

"Very good sir," Ianto said. Jack looked sharply at him, but it was clear that Ianto was being facetious, playing the butler card because he knew it bugged Jack. "Shall I bring you two breakfast in bed?"

"It might be best. And see if you can find Gwen's clothes. I think she left them down in the medical bay."

Ianto nodded. He leaned in a planted a quick kiss on Jack's forehead, a promise of more to come. Then he rose, and left through the hole in the ceiling. 

Jack leaned back. Gwen was a warm mass against his stomach. He curled himself around her, and then almost woke her when he yelped. Her feet were _freezing. _He shifted so he wouldn't feel her feet against his legs.

Gwen unfolded a little at the contact. As Jack watched, one eye opened and fixed itself on him. 

"Jack?" she asked.

He brushed her bangs from her face with a gentle finger.

"Morning, Sunshine." 

She smiled.

* * *

Tosh and Owen were at their respective desks, trying to surreptitiously watch Jack's office while pretending to actually work. Ianto appeared, bearing a tray laden with breakfast foods. He vanished into Jack's office. When he reemerged a moment later, without the tray, he stopped. Tosh and Owen were watching him.

Ianto met both of their glances, shrugged, and then continued on through the Hub. He didn't get very far before Owen hopped up from his chair, blocking Ianto's path.

"Spill," Owen said. "Where's the boss?"

"Slept in," Ianto said. It was, after all, the truth. He pushed past Owen and continued on to the kitchen. 

"And where's Gwen?" Owen called after him.

"Said she'd be late," Ianto answered.

"Must have had a hell of a night," Owen muttered to himself, thinking that he and Tosh had left Jack, Gwen and Ianto at _Cachu Iar _last night. There was no telling what that trio had gotten up to. Hell, there was no telling what the trio had gotten up after Ianto had locked him and Tosh in the closet. 

He smiled at the memory of that. It had seemed like hell for the first hour or so, but then he had relaxed...He glanced up at Tosh; she was watching him. She blushed and looked down. 

Owen unconsciously smiled and went back to his desk.

They looked up again when Ianto wandered past a few moments later, holding a small stack of folded clothes in one hand. Owen's eyes narrowed. Those clothes looked suspiciously like the ones that Gwen had been wearing...they _were_. 

Well, blimey. 

_That sneaky cow,_ he thought without malice. _No wonder the boss is late_.

"Owen?" Tosh asked when Ianto had vanished into Jack's office again. "Were those...?"

"I do believe they were."

"Oh. _Oh!_"

* * *

Gwen and Jack didn't get to enjoy their breakfast. 

Shortly after Ianto brought the tray of food – and, moments later, Gwen's clothes – the rift alarms went off. They were especially loud down in Jack's sleeping quarters, because the speaker was right next to his bed, and the room was the perfect shape for echoes.

Gwen winced, and grabbed for her clothes.

"I'll see to it," Jack said. Gwen looked away as he changed into his usual outfit. And she didn't peek. She most certainly didn't peek. 

Okay, maybe just a little peek. 

"Get dressed and meet us upstairs. I promise I won't start the fun without you."

"Thanks Jack."

He made to move off, and then stopped. Quick as lightning, he bent down, gave her a quick peck on the lips, and then was gone. The gesture startled her, and left her all warm and fuzzy inside. Were it not for the klaxon blaring in her ear, and the need to get dressed being so obvious, she would have lingered to revel in it and what it meant. 

As soon as Jack was through the roof – quite literally – Gwen got changed herself. 

Ianto had provided a clean shirt in the form of one of Jack's. It was a little loose on her, but it meant that she wouldn't have to wear the same shirt as she'd worn all the day before _and_ all night again. 

"Ianto, you are a god," she muttered to herself. She was definitely going to find a way to repay him for this. A pity she didn't have time for a shower. She threw the shirt on.

It was one of Jack's white shirts – of which he had several – and she could tell what colour bra she was wearing underneath (blue, with green polka-dots), but it was a clean shirt and she wasn't going to complain. Instead, she went up through into Jack's office, took a deep breath and stepped out into the main area of the Hub.

Tosh and Owen's both sent her questioning glances. She felt her face going red and she turned away, unable to meet their gazes. There was nothing to be ashamed about, of course; she and Jack hadn't actually done anything. Even if they had, it was between her and their boss, not her and their boss and Tosh and Owen. But that didn't stop the embarrassment, born of the guilt that she'd shared a bed with a man who wasn't her fiancé – and didn't care. 

She'd never been more grateful to hear the rift alarm. It meant that Tosh and Owen couldn't spend too much time speculating on what was going on between herself and Jack. Maybe by the end of this they would have forgotten how the morning had begun.

"Focus, Tosh," Jack said, and Tosh's eyes went back to her computer screen. "Tell me what's happening."

"There's major rift activity happening – there, in the middle of the bay." Tosh said, her fingers dancing across her keyboards, the monitors' images flickering. The largest held the map of the area, a flashing marker indicating the exact location of the activity.

"Looks like our streak of limited activity has come to an end," Jack said. 

"Thought it was too good to be true," Owen muttered. He wished Jack didn't sound so cheerful at the idea of imminent danger. 

"Can we tell what it is yet?" Gwen asked, and tried not to flinch as everyone looked at her. 

"No, only that it's big," Tosh said.

"We've got reports coming in," Ianto piped up. "Whatever it is is firing at the city!"

"With what?" Jack demanded. 

"Cannons."

* * *

All five of them stood on the quay by the rundown tourist shop, looking out into the bay. Floating on the waters, as large as you please, was a three masted ship with jet black sails. Its figure head, from what Jack could tell at this distance, was an flying angel, one hand outstretched, a dove about to take off. It's sails were furled amongst the complicated rigging. It was gorgeous, a masterpiece of wood and rope and canvas.

It also had all of its cannons out on the starboard side, even though the ship was too far from the city to cause any damage to anything other than the odd small boat still out on the water. 

The Jolly Roger was prominently displayed on the ship.

"Pirates?" Owen asked incredulously. "Cardiff is under attack from pirates?"

"Have there ever even been pirates in Cardiff?" Tosh asked. 

As one, the group turned to Ianto. If anyone would know without having to look it up first, it would be the Teaboy.

"Irish raids, vikings, John Callice in the late 1500's – though he usually sold captured cargo to local landowners," Ianto said with a shrug, wondering why everyone was looking at him. "And then there's the theories about the origins of Davy Jones' Locker."

Jack shook his head and went back to staring through his binoculars. Sometimes he wondered if Ianto had an eidetic memory. The man seemed to know everything. But even with Ianto's seemingly endless knowledge, there was still a downside to living in a city steeped in its own history - which was that there was far too much history that needed digging through before they could get any further. They needed to know if this rift activity was just a 'ghost' on a massive scale, or if the ship was from somewhere else entirely.

"Anyone recognize the ship?" Gwen asked.

There was a round of shaken heads. 

"Are we sure this isn't some recreation done by a historical society with far too much time and money on their hands?" Jack asked.

Tosh held up her portable scanner. Complicated alien technology bleeped and whirred and chirped. "There's a massive amount of residual rift energy," she said decisively. "That ship came through the rift."

"Well, lets find a way to send it back," Gwen said. 

There was another muffled boom as one of the cannons aboard the ship fired. Water nearby fountained up as the shot missed any important target whatsoever. The sound rolled like thunder over the bay. In the silence afterwards, Gwen could hear yelling on the ship. 

"Oh, what are _they_ doing?" Jack asked, clearly annoyed. A harbour patrol vessel was pulling up alongside the massive ship, likely to make them stop shooting at the city. The result was something akin to watching a Jack Russell terrier tell off a timber wolf. Heads and shoulders appeared at the gunwales as curious sailors on the huge ship tried to work out what was going on. Jack put his binoculars back in his pocket.

The sounds of someone using a megaphone were muffled by the time it reached the quintet on the shore, but everyone had a pretty good idea of what was being said. 

"'Prepare to be boarded.' Do they honestly thing that's going to work?" Ianto asked.

"They're going to get themselves killed," Gwen said. "We should be helping them."

"You're right. Come on!" Jack yelled. He took off down the quay east, toward the Pierhead and the carousel, and then south down to the docks.

"Are we going to steal a boat?" Owen shouted as they all ran to keep up.

"Commandeer!" Jack yelled over his shoulder. "We're going to _commandeer_ a boat. Nautical term! Do try to keep up."

* * *

The boat they ended up stealing – commandeering – was tiny. It was little more than a runabout, with hardly enough room for them to all get in. It also smelled of fish and machine oil, and it took Jack five jerking pulls of the rip-cord to convince the engine that he actually wanted it to start. 

In the end it turned out that they didn't have to go to all the trouble. The massive ship with black sails quite literally vanished in a sudden mist. The harbor patrol boat was unharmed, though its captain was less than impressed that Torchwood had gone and stomped all over their stomping grounds. 

There was a shouted conversation over the space between their two boats, with Jack bellowing and the patrol boat captain replying with his megaphone. They were not happy at the prospect of being interviewed by Torchwood at a later time, or with the idea that they would have to turn back.

Still, even after the patrol boat captain had insisted that the ship was gone – and not even on radar – Jack persisted in investigating the area where the sudden mist had come up. 

Ianto – unsurprisingly – knew how to pilot a boat. He took them round the bay. They were out there for several hours, and the only evidence of the ship that they found was a mangy, three-cornered hat, floating in the water. And a lot of residual rift energy.

Gwen, Ianto, Tosh and Owen were huddled in on themselves. And wishing, not for the first time, that they had commandeered a bigger boat. They were not dressed for a trip around the bay and they were all cold – except Jack, who was wearing his greatcoat. 

Jack actually looked like he was having a lot of fun. He was standing in the bow of their little boat, one leg up on the gunwale in the traditional Cap'n Morgan stance, wind blowing through his hair in a very theatrical way. Gwen remembered how she'd compared him to a pirate and decided that he needed a bigger ship for that pose to work. Or a barrel. And a big floppy hat with a feather in it wouldn't hurt. 

But the sight of Jack playing boat Captain instead of air Captain couldn't distract her for long. On top of being cold and cramped, Gwen was feeling a little sea-sick. It wasn't the full blown sea-sickness for which there is no cure, but rather a slight nausea brought on by the rocking motion of the boat and the glare of sunlight off the water, and the fact that she was frozen to the core by sea spray. 

Her only consolation was that, on the way back, she had managed to wedge herself in behind Jack and use him as a windshield. Owen had pulled Tosh against him to help her keep warm, and Tosh was looking quite pleased with herself. Ianto looked cold and miserable too, but at least he was a little sheltered by the others. He deftly steered the small boat back to where they'd commandeered it.

Gwen stumbled a little after she hauled herself out of the boat and onto the dock. Jack caught her, and for a moment she rested in his arms. It was enough to make the last few hours of cramped cold worth it, and she smiled up at him.

Tosh and Owen exchanged knowing looks, and then glanced down at Ianto who was still in the boat. They were expecting some sort of angsty face; they weren't expecting acceptance. 

_Something is definitely going on_, Owen thought. 

The moment's respite in Jack's arm's couldn't last, however, and Gwen felt as though she couldn't reach solid land fast enough. She left Jack to re-tie the moorings as she and Tosh made a beeline for the quay, followed by Owen and the hat. Ianto came a moment later, having been handed out of the boat by Jack.

Ianto, Tosh and Owen wandered off towards the tourist shop entrance. Gwen hung back. She took a minute to lean against the railing to wait for the ground to stop heaving. Jack caught up to her then, and offered her his elbow. She slipped her arm in his with a smile.

* * *

There followed the usual mountain of paperwork. After Ianto made everyone coffee, however, and they gathered around the heater in the kitchen to absorb the warmth. All except Jack, who had wandered off with the hat. Gwen wondered if he would let her borrow his coat until the shivers went away. 

In the end, she needn't have wondered, because it became apparent that Ianto had added a shot of something that probably should be illegal to the coffee; it left fire in their bellies, and they all found that they had to sit for a few minutes to clear their heads. But as soon as the initial dizziness left them, they found that they were all as warm as if they had been out in the sun all day. 

"What was that stuff, Ianto?" Owen asked. 

Ianto looked evasive as he tidied up the cups and coffee materials. 

"Oh, just something my grandmother makes," he said. "Family recipe."

"Your Gran distills moonshine?" Gwen asked with a raised eyebrow, having figured out what it was by the way the the fumes from open bottle of it were bubbling the paint on the wall behind it.

Ianto looked down at his hands shrugged.

"What she make it out of?" Owen asked, and he actually looked interested.

"Mostly apples."

"Ah."

"It's for medicinal purposes only," Ianto added defensively.

They all nodded. 

"Sure it is," Gwen said soothingly. "I'm sure many a life has been saved in her village by a drop of that stuff." She looked down at her empty coffee mug, reflecting that if ever she need a wound cauterized or paint stripped, she knew who to go to. "Does Jack know you have it?"

"He has so much to worry about already," Ianto said with a dismissive wave. "Wouldn't want to burden him with it..." he realized they were all looking at him. He muttered something about cleaning and scurried out of the kitchen. 

Gwen just shook her head and got back to work. 

Fifteen minutes later everyone forgot about the moonshine; the rift alarms went again.

* * *

"That damn boat's back," Jack said as everyone set about their duties. 

"We're not going out on the bay again?" Tosh asked hopefully.

"No, I'm going to hitch a ride with harbor patrol this time. Anyone care to join me?"

Everyone suddenly found their own desks and work to be especially involving.

"Fine. Ianto, get reading on pirate activity in Cardiff and see if any ships match the one we've got. Tosh, start analyzing that rift energy and see if we can't find a way to send that ship back for good. Gwen, you're with me, and Owen...scan and log the hat."

"The hat?" Owen whined. "Aw, c'mon! I thought Ianto was supposed to do the logging."

"Ianto's reading up on pirates."

Owen stomped off to where Jack had left the hat they'd found in the water, grumbling all the way.

Gwen really didn't want to go back out on the bay. Jack read her expression, vanished into his office and came back with a small pink pill and a thick sweater that she'd never seen him wear.

"Christmas present from an old boyfriend," Jack said apologetically as he handed it to her. "Mauve was never my colour."

She put it on. It was huge on her. Not as big as the shiny purple Weevil pajamas that she'd been wearing the night before, but still really damn big. 

"Sexy," Jack said with a grin, earning him a smack on the arm. He handed her the pill. "Anti-nauseate."

"Thanks," she said. As Ianto went past he handed her a glass of water. He must have known what Jack was getting for her. She took the pill.

The boat was gone by the time they got upstairs. It had vanished into the mists again. This time it hadn't fired on anyone or anything, but something had come over the side. Jack hitched a ride on the same harbor patrol vessel that had been out earlier, and wasted no time in seriously pissing off its captain. Gwen, safely wrapped in the mauve sweater (which was a really nice sweater, no matter that Jack never wore it), stood back and tried to project the same 'I-own-everything-and-there's-nothing-you-can-do-about-it' air that Jack was. 

She wasn't sure if she succeeded or not. The captain and crew pretty much ignored her completely. Jack was making enough of a nuisance of himself for the both of them, however, so she left him to it.

They had just reached the shore when the boat reappeared. This time, Jack timed how long it was before it vanished again. Fifteen minutes of watching the boat sail bewilderedly around the bay and it was gone again. Thankfully, this time, he didn't insist on them going after it. The sun was starting to go down anyway. 

"I'm going to have Owen keep an eye on the bay tonight," Jack said exuberently as they walked back to the Hub. "And Tosh should have enough data to work out a rudimentry prediction program for when the next time that thing's going to appear. It doesn't seem to be leaving anything behind...Any thoughts?" Jack asked, because she appeared to be lost in her own head.

"I think I should go home," Gwen said, realizing that this wasn't what Jack was asking, but she was exhausted and didn't care. "I haven't talked to Rhys all day and I'm knackered." She glanced up at Jack.

Jack was staring back out to sea. Some of the hardness had crept back into his features. 

Gwen suddenly felt guilty, but she couldn't say why; because she had left her fiancé at home, or because she'd mentioned her fiancé in front of the man in whose bed she'd spent the night? 

"You're probably right," Jack said after a minute, voice carefully controlled. "See you tomorrow then." He pulled away from her.

On a sudden impulse, she went up on her tip-toes and gave him a light kiss, as light as the one that he'd given her this very morning. 

He looked at her, completely shocked. He had not been expecting that. 

"See you tomorrow," she said with a small smile. 

It always pays to keep them on their toes.

* * *

A/N: Oh man. That was a bit sappy...well...just a bit. 

I can't tell you how hard it was to write this one. It just didn't want to be written. So if it's not up to the caliber of my other chapters, I'm sorry...I tried. 

Couple of things: First, John Callice was an actual pirate in the 1500's. I'd never even heard of him until I went to go look up whether or not Cardiff had actually been attacked by pirates...I mean, it's a coastal town that's been there for ages, so there was a good chance...but anyway, if anyone's interested, it's a neat life story and a great bit of history and you should go look it up. 

Secondly, I know next to nothing about boats. I was on the rowing team at my school for a semester, but was woefully bad at it. Apart from that, I've been on my uncle's boat before he sold it...and the odd boat after that. So if I got the technical terms for the boat wrong...whoopsies. Let me know and I'll fix them.

Finally...the name of the chapter is FUBAR. I'm guessing everyone knows what that means, but for those who don't, it's an acronym. I'll let you look it up :)


	10. SNAFU

A/N: Over 100 reviews! In just nine chapters! You guys ROCK!

Just for that, I'm making this chapter _extra_ long and everyone gets double the cookies and hugs. Quadruple the hugs and cookies. With milk (or soy milk, if you so desire). And chocolate. Or Candy. Or both.

Sorry this one took so long to update. That was for a couple of reasons: The first, it was my birthday this past Friday (whee!), and the second, I joined a gym and have been spending a chunk of time there instead of in front of my computer (also 'whee!' because it means my flabs will become abs again). And the third reason is that one of the upcoming scenes was incredibly difficult to write because I didn't want to end up at the wrong end of a mob. You'll know which one it was when you get to it. Hopefully. Or, rather, not hopefully. If you can't tell it was hard to write, then that means I've done a decent job :)

**Disclaimer**: I should mention, for those of you who've never read any Terry Pratchett, that the 'mostly apples' thing was originally his and I thew it in because I absolutely adore his stuff and I was paying homage to it. Not because I was trying to make myself look clever by cribbing someone else's stuff. Anymore than by simply writing fanfiction, anyway.

**Rating**: Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

**Spoilers**: Not especially.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: SNAFU**

Rhys was surprised when Gwen got home before nine pm. It wasn't much before, because of all the time they'd spent on that bloody boat, but it was before nine pm.

She greeted him perfunctorily with a kiss on the cheek and then dropped her purse in the hall.

"How's your head?" Rhys asked.

Gwen prodded where the half-brick in a sock had clunked her.

"Fine, actually. And today was so busy that I didn't even think of it."

"Ah. I've made you some supper," he added hopefully.

"Wonderful. I haven't eaten yet." Which was a bit of a lie, because she had grabbed a snack on the way home. "Just let me grab a shower and I'll heat it up."

"Where'd you get that sweater?" Rhys asked as they went further into the flat.

"Jack loaned it to me," she answered. "Said it was a Christmas present from an old boyfriend."

"Ah, well." Rhys said, rejoicing within at this further confirmation of his assumptions about Jack. "Jack and his boyfriends."

Gwen said nothing. She was too busy getting ready for her shower. She had started to undress, but had scented something that made her pause. Jack.

She looked around, certain that he was there in the room with her, but then she realized that her nose had tricked her. Jack wasn't there, but his sweater was.

She wondered if he'd ever worn it. He must keep it with his other clothes, for it to smell like it did. It was clear that it was hardly worn at all, and he'd said that mauve wasn't his colour...though she had a hard time picturing him looking bad while wearing anything.

Or nothing.

And she knew what he looked like when he was wearing nothing...

That thought for later, she reminded herself. When there wasn't a danger of Rhys coming into the room and seeing her face.

"So how was your day?" Rhys asked from the door-frame. Gwen looked around, carefully schooling her features.

"Long," she said. "Spent most of it out on the bay, chasing a ship that wasn't there."

"Ghost ships now?" Rhys asked, trying to joke around. "I thought you just caught aliens."

"It's the rift," Gwen said, unaccountably annoyed. "We get all sorts."

Her shower was long and hot and luxurious. Until, that is, she paired those three words with a mental picture of of Jack. Then her shower became...well, it stayed long and hot and luxurious, she just turned the tap off and dried off because if she stayed in there with those thoughts, she'd run out of hot water before she ran out of thoughts.

Rhys was watching TV when she got out of the bathroom, so she just put on her pajamas and crawled into bed. It was early, and she didn't care. And she'd forgotten about the food that Rhys had made her, but she wouldn't have cared if she had remembered, because she was just so tired. But even though she was bone tired, she didn't sleep. Not yet. She couldn't get Jack out of her head.

His face when she'd kissed him. It had been priceless. She wondered if the CCTV footage of the Plass had a good shot of it. She smiled, sighed and turned over.

The bed felt strangely empty without Jack in it.

But, she contented herself, according to Ianto's schedule, tomorrow night was hers.

She was still smiling when she finally fell asleep.

* * *

When Tosh arrived at the Hub the next day, there was a hat on her desk.

She stared at it.

It was brown – mostly. Whether the colour was from aged leather or the dirt that seemed to encrust it, she wasn't sure. It was a tricorn, too. And it stank, of unwashed hair, and sea salt, and kelp, and mud, and sweat, and old sushi, and...rum?

"I thought Owen was supposed to log the hat?" she asked in general.

Jack, moseying past with a mug of tea, looked at the hat.

"Owen said he needed you to run a trace for additional rift energy spectra," he said jovially. "Give it a scan, would you?"

Tosh eyed the hat wearily. It had been the only fruit of several hours of puttering about the bay in a tiny boat, the only proof that a giant pirate ship had been sailing around the bay and firing its cannons at everything. There was no telling what it could do. What if it granted special telepathic powers? Or the memories of the last man to wear it? What if it housed the soul of its original owner, who would be freed by the simple act of putting it on whereupon he would begin a campaign of destruction and slaughter against the people of Cardiff?

She wasn't over reacting, she told herself. She worked for Torchwood. These sorts of things had to be expected.

Coming to a quick decision, she put her laptop down and snatched the hat up from her desk.

"I'm not..." she said, but the protest died in her throat.

Jack turned around, eyebrows raised, looking at her over his mug.

"Yes?"

"Never mind."

She went down to Archives, scanned it, made notes, and then...brought it back upstairs. She didn't really want to. She wanted to leave it down there, where it should be. Where the compass should be, if it came to that. For all she knew, it would let her read thoughts again. She really didn't want to do that. And not just because it was a smelly old hat and she really didn't want to put it on.

When she got upstairs, Gwen and Owen had arrived, and Ianto was making the morning tea run. Tosh left the hat on her desk, and cautiously approached Jack's office.

"Sir..." she began hesitantly, standing in the door frame. He motioned her in.

"What is it, Tosh?"

"The hat appears to be...just a hat." She reported. "No indication of additional energy spectra."

"Did you try it on?"

"No," she admitted.

"Why not?"

"Because it's dirty and it smells bad, and it's just a hat. Sir."

He was smiling at her again.

"But it was found at the site of a vanishing pirate ship and looks to be from the same era as a rather powerful little compass," he said. "We should explore every means of finding out if it has powers."

"But..."

"Yes?"

"What if it makes me hear..." Tosh couldn't bear to finish that sentence. Hearing what everyone thought, either consciously or unconsciously, was bad the first time around. She'd already seen what – who – everyone secretly desired, which had uncomfortably reminded her of that horrid little necklace. Somethings weren't meant to be seen.

Although, to be fair, _that_ incident had worked out in her favour (she and Owen were actually getting along now, not to mention working their way up to a full blown date). It was just that, now, Gwen and Ianto were dancing around each other and Jack in a complicated dance that had no apparent pattern to it save that Jack was in the middle of it all. It was maddening.

Whatever Jack would have said next, either to comfort her or coerce her, it was interrupted by a yell.

"Arrrgh!"

Tosh and Jack ran out of his office – and stopped dead at the threshold.

Owen was wearing the hat. And grinning like a pirate. Tosh sighed in relief. It had sounded, for an instant, that someone had actually gotten hurt.

And then Owen spotted her. He bounded up the stairs, skidding to a halt before her in an uncharacteristic display of enthusiasm and giddiness.

"Thar be the fair damsel!" he said, bowing over her hand. "And here be a rose!" He pulled one out of his back pocket and handed it to her.

"Owen, what are you doing?" Tosh asked him. "Are you feeling alright?" She reached out to touch his forehead. "Have you gone mad?"

Quick as a snake, Owen grabbed her hand, twirled her like a dancer and dipped her, so low her hair could almost brush the floor.

"I be mad, but only with the beauty of you," Owen declared

"I'm sorry sir," Ianto was babbling. "I hadn't realized that I'd left the bottle out. He must have picked it up."

"Ianto?" Jack asked, sidling over to the Teaboy. "The bottle of what? What are you talking about?"

"It's my Gran's family recipe," Ianto continued, oblivious to Jack's entreaties. "She makes a new batch every year. And she always tells us to make sure we don't leave the lid off and light a candle because, while fireballs may be pretty, you'll look like a fool without your eyebrows."

"Eyebrows?" asked Jack, who was trying to keep up. "Ianto? Ianto!"

Ianto looked up from where he'd been watching, horrified, as Owen spun Tosh in circles and babbled in a pirate-ish accent about moonbeams and ships and traveling. Tosh looked ill, but that was probably because of all the spinning.

"I didn't know he'd take it!"

"Take what?"

"Grog!" Owen yelled, stopping his wild spin and pulling an unlabeled bottle out of his jacket pocket. He took a deep swig of it and then commenced to cough loudly. "Woo!" he said in his own accent. "That sure has a kick to it."

Ianto put his head in his hands and mumbled something.

"What?" Jack asked.

"He took my Gran's medicinal...um..." he trailed into silence, and gestured to the bottle.

"Oh." A pause, and then, "What's it made out of?"

"Mostly apples."

"Ah. What _else_ is it made out of?"

"Um..."

* * *

Owen spent a long cooling off period in the cell next to Janet's. Jack provided him with a bucket for when the moonshine abandoned ship and a blanket for any chills that might present. It all seemed a little cruel to Tosh (whose head was still ringing with his professions of affection), but she supposed it was the only way to make sure he didn't hurt himself or anyone else by trying to climb the pterodactyl's eyrie to "see the view aloft."

By the time they'd shut the door and walked away from Owen's promises of retribution, and Tosh and Jack had made it back upstairs, Gwen had arrived bearing a box of doughnuts and muffins. And a small, wrapped present.

Ianto was looking morose about the loss of his Gran's Homemade Medicinal Distillates (and from the chastising that Jack had given him for leaving the bottle where Owen could get at it...and not sharing before now); he brightened considerably when Gwen handed him the present.

Was it his birthday? Tosh wondered. She couldn't read the tag from where she was standing, but when Ianto did he smiled and wrapped Gwen in a bear hug. Tosh hadn't seen that much emotion from Ianto in...a long time, if ever. He was normally so impeccable in both dress and behaviour, even when muttering some sarcastic remark, that to see him acting a little unprofessional was...somewhat unsettling.

"Don't I get a present?" Jack asked, looking a little left out.

"Yours is coming later," Gwen said. It took her a good thirty seconds to hear what she'd actually said, and she added, "why don't you go ahead and open it, Ianto?" a little too quickly.

Jack grinned fiercely, and managed to pack a lot of suggestion into the expression. Ianto ripped the shiny paper off the box and pulled off the lid. Whatever he saw in the box caused his grin to double in size.

Tosh was burning with curiosity, wondering what could make Ianto grin so widely. What would cause Gwen to give Ianto a present was another question that Tosh particularly wanted answered. It seemed almost...out of character.

Both questions went unanswered, though, because Ianto gave Gwen another hug and vanished off to his corner of the Hub, taking the present and a couple doughnuts with him. Tosh watched him go and wondered just what that had been about.

* * *

"Heya, Rhys! It's Daf."

"Oh, hey Daf. What's up?"

"Same old, same old. Listen, me and the lads were thinkin' of meeting for a pint later. Interested?"

"Sounds good. The missus will likely be late tonight."

"Ah." There was a hint of patronizing expectation in Daf's voice, detectable even on this end of the phone. It annoyed Rhys to no end.

"We're not going to Sharky's again, are we?" Rhys asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Nah, thought we'd try a new place," Daf replied. "It's near the Millennium Center. Aled's latest girlfriend said it was pretty decent, despite its name."

"Oh really? What's it called?"

"_Cachu Iar_."

* * *

Gwen's day thus far had been far better than she had been expecting. She'd had leftovers for breakfast, which always seemed better than actual breakfast for whatever strange reason. Rhys fried them all up for her. She woke early, refreshed and ready to face the day, straight from dreams about Jack that she wasn't going to be telling anyone about. Plus, Ianto had liked his gift, given in appreciation of his actions yesterday morning. Her ribs still hurt from his bone crushing bear hug. But it had been worth it to see the smile on his face. And on Jack's face, when it came to that.

She had been a little nervous about brining Ianto a present and not one for everyone else, but thankfully Owen was cooling his heels (and head) down in the vaults, and Tosh was still too frazzled about what Owen had done to earn a trip to the vaults to really worry about it. Jack had made his snarky comment, but she would worry about that later.

On top of all this, the boat that they'd spent the entire day before chasing had finally stopped appearing every half an hour or so. Everyone was wondering whether or not they'd see it again, a question that could only be answered by keeping an eye on the bay for the next long while. The upside to this was that they didn't have to go back out on the bay again, which pleased Gwen to no end because she didn't think she could stand being on a boat for at least another week.

So, all things considered, the first half of her day was just fine. Until, at least, the police called; then everything went to pot.

* * *

The call came in at nearly lunch time. Jack sent Gwen and Ianto out to investigate while he and Tosh stayed back at the Hub to monitor everything, and Owen made retching noises down in the vaults.

The call came in from the South Wales Police station on Cowbridge Road. They had apprehended a man in Bute park who had been threatening some picnickers with a sword. That had fit the description of something Torchwood would probably deal with, and so the officers had decided to fob the paperwork off on someone else and had put in the call.

When Gwen and Ianto arrived, the booking officer looked relieved.

"Has he been any trouble?" Gwen asked after they identified themselves as being from Torchwood.

"Mostly he just sat in his cell," the officer replied. She was a slight woman with graying brown hair and dull brown eyes. "Couldn't understand a word he said; it was all garbled. And then we went to bring him some lunch and he tried to escape. Nearly made it too."

"What stopped him?"

"Dumb luck. He tripped over a mop bucket and we were able to re-apprehend him. So we sedated him and put him back in the cell. We would have thought him just another crazy drunk were it not for his get up, and all the stuff that happened down on the bay yesterday."

"What do you mean?" Ianto asked.

"You'll see," the officer replied.

When they reached the cell, the officer pulled back the metal plate on the view window and Gwen peeked through.

"He's dressed like a pirate," she said dryly. And indeed, the man inside (currently sedated) was dressed like a pirate. A dirty pirate, for that matter. Gwen could smell the rum on him from the other side of the heavy steel door.

Ianto had a look.

"Think he might be from that ship?" he asked Gwen.

"It's possible," Gwen answered. "Jack said he thought he saw something go over the side yesterday before it vanished for the third time."

The man was...dirty. But the dirt was almost like a part of his costume. It added a little something to the forked beard and the dreadlocks with the beads woven in, and the red bandanna, and the grubby, not-quite-white-anymore shirt with the puffy sleeves beneath a even grubbier brown vest.

"We'll take him with us," Gwen said to the booking officer. She wasn't entirely convinced that the pirate in the cells wasn't just a crazy drunk with a particular fetish for pirate gear, but with a pirate ship that could appear and disappear in the bay at random intervals, she wasn't going to take any chances. "Ianto, can you get him out to the SUV?"

"Yes ma'am," Ianto said sharply. He grimaced slightly; he really didn't want to touch the man inside. The man probably had fleas.

"Did the prisoner have anything else on him when you apprehended him?" Gwen asked as Ianto made a face and entered the cell.

The officer beckoned, and Gwen followed her back down the corridor to the desk.

"Just these," she said, crouching down. When she stood, she was holding a rusty cutlass and sword belt, a musket, and a tattered great coat that had probably once been very fine but was now simply very dirty. "I held off from putting them in evidence, since we called you lot."

"Thank you," Gwen said warmly, even though she was somewhat hesitant at draping the coat over her arm.

"I'll find you some evidence bags," the officer said, and moved off. Gwen took the time to report back to Jack about the imminent arrival of a new prisoner.

* * *

"Maybe we can give him a bath," Ianto said as Gwen helped him pile the dirty man in the back of the SUV, where they usually stored the captive Weevils.

"I don't think that would have much effect," Gwen replied. "Cor, he doesn't half stink."

"Well, if he's come through the rift, perhaps he comes from a time and place where soap is hard to come by," Ianto suggested.

"Perhaps," Gwen replied grimly. "Let's get Jack to carry him down though."

"Definitely."

Once their prisoner was secured in the back of the SUV, Ianto hopped in the driver's seat and they took off back to the Hub.

"So what was up with Owen this morning?" Gwen asked as they drove away.

Ianto turned a little pink and didn't answer.

"Ianto?"

"He stayed last night, working on some side project. And logging that hat," Ianto said. "Not sure what else, because Jack...needed me to help with...stuff."

"Ianto," Gwen said warningly.

"Right," Ianto said. He cleared his throat. "So Jack and I were down in the cellars, um...doing..."

"...each other," Gwen supplied, and Ianto went a little more red.

"Owen must have found the bottle around then," he continued without missing a beat, though his face looked about as red as the root vegetable whose name was a homonym.

"He probably thought to put a bit in his coffee," Gwen supplied sympathetically. She found herself marveling again at the fact that she wasn't jealous. She wondered if, maybe, she was sick and should see a doctor. A head doctor, obviously, since seeing the other sort would mean explaining to Owen why she thought something was wrong, and that would mean that Owen would start gossiping with Tosh, who would likely let it slip to Jack, and then there'd be a problem because Jack would never let her live it down. So no; better to keep Owen and Tosh out of this and hope they were preoccupied with each other.

It was a good thing Ianto was driving; Gwen's own non-linear thoughts would have likely caused her to crash the car by now.

"Well, whatever his plans were, he ended up drinking most of it," Ianto said, bringing Gwen back to the here-and-now. "My Gran was always very specific about not drinking a whole bottle at once. She said it could make your brain melt and drip out your ears if you weren't careful."

"Was he that bad?" Gwen asked, because she hadn't seen most of what had happened.

"I'll call up the CCTV footage when we get back, if Tosh hasn't deleted it," Ianto said, enough grim promise in his voice to make Gwen wonder just what Owen had done to earn a place in the vaults.

"How much of it did he drink?"

"Two thirds of the bottle. I have more; my Gran always makes a big batch. It's just that _that_ bottle was the last of the very first lot she ever gave me. Brewed the day I was born. I'd had it for ten years."

Gwen did a rough calculation in her head. "You've had that stuff since you were sixteen?"

"More or less," Ianto said evasively.

"Huh."

"It gets stronger with age too, provided it doesn't dissolve the container its in," Ianto added.

"Really."

By now, Ianto had pulled the SUV into the garage and he and Gwen piled out. Gwen peeked through the back window at their prisoner; he was still safely sedated.

"Want me to get Jack?" Ianto asked.

Gwen nodded. "I'll keep an eye on Long John Silver here," she said. She climbed into the back of the SUV so she could watch him through the bars. Ianto headed off into the Hub.

* * *

The weather channels were reporting that there was a strange bank of clouds or mist gathering on the horizon, what looked to be a sudden storm. Everyone expected rain because – well, lets face it – they lived in Wales. But according to the meteorologists, the storm was likely to be a bad one.

Certainly dramatic, at any rate. Jack had to wonder if there would be some major dramatic event for the storm to punctuate. It was practically what storms like that were for, all slanting rain and lightning so bright it looks sunny out for a split second, and thunder that would boom and roll in off the bay. With a storm like that, there just had to be some big _thing _made all the more atmospheric by the raging weather.

If nothing else, it would likely blow down trees and knock out power-lines and probably flood a few basements.

In all seriousness, Jack was actually a little worried. Big storms like this also heralded big moments of rift activity. Nasty things happened when the rift acted up this much. It played merry hob with the space/time continuum, at any rate. You could meet yourself coming _and_ going, and that never ended well.

Well...Jack could think of a few situations in which that _could_ end well, but they'd also likely end with the destruction of the universe too. But it would be a hell of a lot of fun just before everything imploded.

"Jack," Ianto said as he came through the door. He jerked his thumb behind him to indicate that Jack needed to come with.

"That didn't take long," Jack said by way of interruption.

"He's in the SUV, heavily sedated."

"Coming, coming. Tosh, keep an eye on Owen. You can do that while you're preparing the interrogation chamber for our visitor."

He and Ianto vanished back through the big round door, and it rolled back behind them.

Tosh rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir," she muttered to herself.

She called up the CCTV footage of Owen's cell. He was still retching into the bucket. She turned the sound off, and made a mental note to nip down later with some water and dry toast.

* * *

It took Jack and Ianto hardly any time at all to make it back up to the SUV. They found Gwen perched on the edge of the seat, waiting. The prisoner was still asleep.

"Good lord!" Jack exclaimed upon viewing the man in the back of the SUV for the first time. "Where did you say they found him?"

"Bute Park," Gwen supplied. "Waving a cutlass about."

"If he's from that ship, he made it a good distance up river without being noticed," Jack mused. "Which explains why he smells like the river. But not the rum."

"I'll look into it," Ianto promised. There was probably a robbery or two that needed explaining.

"Good. Bring him down to the interrogation chamber, if you please, Ianto. His sedatives should be wearing off soon."

Gwen shot Ianto a sympathetic look. So much for their plan to make Jack carry the dirty man.

"Bring his affects with you, Gwen," Jack added as he sauntered off back to the Hub's entrance. Gwen grabbed the evidence bags with the coat, sword belt and musket with her. "Scan them when you get in, and see if they have the same energy signature as the ship. Should let us know if he's just a crazy drunk or an actual pirate."

"Or a crazy drunk pirate," Gwen muttered.

"That too," Jack nodded. "By the way, you feel like staying over tonight?"

"What?" To say that she was taken aback would definitely be an understatement.

"We can have a real pajama party, with a pillow fight and talk about boys and everything."

"Jack," she said warningly. She paused and held the door open for a struggling Ianto, who was carrying the unconscious man over his shoulders in the traditional fireman's carry.

"I can bake cookies," Jack continued. "And we'll watch chick flicks."

Gwen studied her boss, and tried to work out if he was serious or not. Aside from the fact that having a girly night with her incredibly manly boss would be...a little too weird, it was probably all a ploy to disarm her and make her comfortable so she didn't fly off the handle. As if her lack of explosive reaction when she'd woken up in his bed yesterday didn't prove anything. Sometimes, she had to wonder.

"Anyone feel like pressing the button for the lift?" Ianto asked from behind them. "Only, this one's getting heavy."

"Oh, sorry Ianto," Gwen said, and she pressed the button. They heard the motor start up as the lift began its slow ascent.

"Or we can hit the pubs and get completely drunk and wake up in bed together – again. We can bring Ianto too, if he's game. There's always room for one more." He winked at her.

Gwen found she couldn't reply. She tried to speak, but the words just wouldn't come out.

Jack was babbling nervously, she realized. He _never_ babbled nervously. The man had practically invented 'suave'.

Ianto stood behind them as they waited for the lift, rolling his eyes at them. He would have thought, that with all his experience, Jack would have figured out how to ask someone out on a date.

"Or we could do the whole dinner and a movie thing, and _then_ hit the pubs."

"Jack..." The lift chimed its arrival. The doors slid open, and they all climbed in. It started up again as soon as the doors were closed, heading down into the Hub proper.

"Or we could stay in and raid Ianto's stash of Homemade Medicinal Distillates. Or -" Jack stopped, because he found Gwen's hand covering his mouth.

"Alright," she said, exasperated. "We can go out for a bit after work. And Ianto can come too, if he wants. But I won't promise to stay over. I...I just won't." She left the reason for that unsaid. Jack knew what she meant, at any rate.

Jack grinned at her. She tried to ignore the fact that her engagement ring suddenly felt like it weighed ten pounds more than it had a moment ago. The cog door rolled back and Jack, Gwen and Ianto, plus one, stepped into the Hub.

* * *

A/N: So yeah...that took me for bloody ever to write...sorry 'bout that. I figure I should start wrapping everything up soon...five more chapters at the max, I suspect...probably less. I've already written the ending, but I think it's going to get revamped...

Funny how the writing process goes, sometimes...that whole bit with the hat had originally been written for chapter two, but I'd scrapped it at the time...good thing I kept it though, because all it needed was a new coat of paint and it was usable :)

Let's see...what else...

I should probably point out that I've never been to Cardiff. This is likely one of those things that's glaringly obvious, but I figure I should mention it anyway. This is so that any of you who actually _live _there won't blow a potential gasket if I get something about it wrong :) So yeah...never been, though I've been dying to go for _ages_ because that's where my mum was born...though, she moved away when she was seven, and the last time she was back was before I was born. But yeah...I feel like I should be thanking Mr. Davies for setting Torchwood there, because now I can think of Cardiff as more than just a dot on a map somewhere. It has _dimension _now, something it never had in my head before. And it's gorgeous.

So yeah...Google Earth is a godsend. The pictures of Cardiff that the satellites took are at such a high resolution that I can zoom right in and almost see people. It's come in quite handy for trying to figure out where things are in relation to each other.


	11. Run Along With Captain Jack

A/N: I forgot to mention that SNAFU is another one of those wonderful acronyms, like FUBAR, that the military (not sure which one) uses to describe situations they get into. I prefer FUBAR myself, since it sounds like a swear word without trying.

On a darker note, I am absolutely terrified that a certain character in this isn't...up to snuff, so to speak. You'll know the character, since you've all been waiting for him (and asking for him)...I was originally not going to have him speak to save me the trouble of capturing his voice...but...I can't have him in the story and NOT have him speak. That'd just be silly.

A HEARTY THANK YOU, to everyone who has ever read, or reviewed, or both!

**Recommendations: **There's a lot I need to make up for, what with having only recommended one or two fics since I've been writing this. I kinda feel bad, since there's so many wonderful stories out there that people should be reading... So...first, nip over to Fictionpress dot com and read a wonderful (orginal) story called _Caution and Creep_, by Innana Skili. It's bloody good. Also, _Out of Their Minds_ by kateg123 has had me rolling on the floor for the last while, because it's just so damned funny. Most of you have read that, if the more than 200 reviews are anything to go by, but still...read it. And, if it's a brilliantly written, darkly atmospheric Ianto-centric fic you're after, _Angelystor_ by Pike2 is right up your alley. Finally _Twenty Things to do in Cardiff When You're Dead_ by phineyj is...incredible. It's...just incredible. Just read it. Even if you don't like Owen.

**Disclaimer**: Still ain't mine

**Rating**: T!

**Spoilers**: I mentioned Sleeper at one point, but only in passing.

**Warning**: This might end up sucking. I'm really hoping it doesn't. Just thought I should warn you anyway...

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Run Along With Captain Jack**

Their prisoner was coming to at about the same time as Ianto lowered him into a chair. His head lolled against his chest as his eyes creaked open. Ianto, Gwen and Jack stood back and observed while Tosh kept an eye on things from the main area of the Hub.

"This isn't the pearl..." the man said as he looked around fuzzily. He had a funny way of speaking, as though his voice was permanently slurred. He was also very good looking, Gwen realized, if you ignored the dirt. After a moment, she realized that this was because he took Jack's roguishness and multiplied it by twenty, something that was helped by a wonderful pair of cheekbones. This was what she'd been comparing Jack to before. _This_ was the archetype. In need of a bath, to be sure (and some serious dental work), but here, before her, was a real pirate.

Or, she amended to herself, someone in a very good costume.

"You're in an underground facility," Jack said. "We're Torchwood."

He waited for the name to sink in and have an effect. It didn't.

"Who?" the man asked.

"Torchwood."

"Ah. That'd be a secret, then?"

"Why do you ask." It may have been phrased as a question, but it wasn't one.

"Because only paranoid people live in underground facilities, and only those who live in underground facilities are paranoid, and the paranoid usually have secrets that they want protectin' for. So ye's got to have secrets, else there's no reason to live in an underground facility, is there?"

It took everyone a moment or two to decipher what the pirate had just said.

"We're not paranoid," Jack said eventually. "Just cautious."

The man snorted and looked around the room. "Got yerselves a bunker's what ye got," he said. "Good place to keep rum, innit? Ye rum runners?"

"No," Jack said with a shake of his head. "Not rum runners. We're special ops."

"Navy?" the pirate asked, looking apprehensive.

"We're not part of any government," Jack said.

The man's black-rimmed eyes widened. "Yer not the East India Trading Company, are you?"

"No, we're not."

The pirate visibly relaxed, and a slow grin spread across his features.

"Interesting," he said. He leaned forward in his chair. "Very interesting. How's 'bout you let me go?"

"And what would I get in return?" Jack asked.

"I'll let 'ye be, find my ship and sail away, never to bother you again."

"No can do," Jack said. "I can't let you go until we determine that you're not a threat. So I need answers."

"And I need rum," the pirate shot back. "Seems like we both need something."

Gwen rolled her eyes. This silly game of bad-cop/ignore-the-others-in-the-room was getting them nowhere. They needed to know how this man got into Cardiff, or whether or not he was the mastermind behind all the recent pirate activity in the bay. At the very least they had to find out whether or not he was worth the time it was going to take them to investigate him.

"What's your name?" Gwen asked. She was rewarded with a look from the pirate that almost put Jack to shame in terms of blatant sexuality.

"An' who 're you, luv?" he asked, grinning. Gold glinted in his smile.

Gwen repressed a shiver. It wasn't from disgust.

"Gwen Cooper," she said.

"Well, Gwen Cooper," the man replied. "'m Cap'n Jack Sparrow. Savvy?"

"No, Captain Jack Sparrow," Captain Jack Harkness said loudly, pushing his way in front of Gwen in a deliberate display of territoriality. "Not savvy. Where did you come from?"

The pirate leaned back in his chair, considering the two people in front of him. Ianto seemed content to remain in the shadows, watching.

"Look. Last I remember, we was sailing the Caribbean in the _Pearl. _Hit some low fog off Tortuga. Next I know, we's in a bay off a city with too many lights, and then the monkey threw my hat overboard."

"The monkey?" Jack asked.

Captain Sparrow shrugged and seemed disinclined to elaborate.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "What about this?" he asked, pulling the compass out of his pocket.

"Ah. That. That'd be mine," said Captain Sparrow. He reached for it. Jack pulled it back out of his reach.

"Where did you get it?"

"Lady gave it to me. In exchange for...favors." He grinned at Gwen. Gwen had to wonder how a man so dirty could possibly be so attractive.

"It's broken," Jack said, playing stupid for now. "Why do you want it back?"

"It's sentimental."

"Where did you loose it?" Gwen asked.

"Bleedin' monkey stole it and thew it into the mist, a'fore we saw the city lights," Captain Sparrow said. "Now, if ya don't mind, can I have my compass back?"

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but Gwen's phone chose that exact moment to go off. The pirate jumped at the sound. Gwen shot Jack an apologetic look, pulled her phone out of her pocket and slipped out the door.

* * *

"Hey, Rhys," Gwen said as she answered the phone. She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice; she really wanted to get back into the interrogation room. "What's up?"

"Not much. Just wondering when you're going to be home tonight."

Gwen tried to ignore the hint of bitterness in Rhys' tone. It was harder than she liked.

"Not sure. I suspect late." Except now that she could hear Rhys' voice, she was having second thoughts about going out with Jack. "We've got a real-live pirate in the Hub."

"A pirate?"

"Yeah. From the ghost ship."

"He's not dangerous, is he?"

"Oh no," she said quickly. "At the moment he's as weak as a kitten."

"Good. You know how devious pirates can be."

She didn't, actually. Unless you counted Jack. Jack could be pretty damned devious, especially recently when it came to ways of getting her into his bed.

"Well, if you're going to be late tonight," Rhys continued, "I'm going out for a pint with Daf and the lads."

"That's probably a good idea," Gwen said, though she wasn't really listening any more. There had been a loud noise from the direction of the interrogation room.

"We're going to try a new place," Rhys added. "Down by where you work. Perhaps I can drop by later to see how you're getting on?"

"Sounds good," she said, mouth working on auto pilot. "What's the place called?"

"Ca-"

There was a shout, followed by a loud crash and the sound of a heavy metal door slamming into a wall. A screaming pirate ran past, followed by an irate Ianto.

"Gotta go," she yelled into the phone at the same time as Jack came around the corner, hand over one eye and limping. "Call you later!"

"Someone tranquilize that bastard!" he yelled. He looked at Gwen, who was still holding her phone. She hung up quickly, and shoved it in her back pocket.

"You alright, Jack?" she asked.

"Bastard poked me in the eye and kicked me in the knee!"

"You'll heal. Come on." She grabbed his free hand and pulled him down the corridor. Within moments he'd stopped limping as his knee knit itself back together, and he dropped his one arm back to his side as his eye stopped watering. But he didn't let go of Gwen's hand.

When they reached the main area of the Hub, they found Ianto and the pirate facing off in front of the invisible lift. Captain Sparrow, with his hat on his head, had gotten his sword off the desk where Tosh had been examining it. He was brandishing it at Ianto, who had grabbed a swivel chair and was using it to hold the pirate at bay, wheels first.

Tosh was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't even in the weapon's room.

"Ianto!" Jack yelled. "Everything alright?"

"Just fine, sir!" Ianto called back. The pirate hopped back up onto the lift, and Gwen knew what was going to happen with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She let go of Jack's hand and darted forward – for the cog door.

Jack's gaze flickered from the invisible lift to the cog door; he knew what she was doing. But he stayed with Ianto, just in case. Gwen was armed; she could handle herself.

Hell, _he_ was armed. He pulled his gun and aimed it at the pirate who had poked him in the eye.

"You think your musket is powerful," he said. "This is five times that and can fire more than once. I suggest you stop what you're doing and get down."

Captain Sparrow looked between the angry Teaboy with the swivel chair and the even angrier man in the great coat with the gun. He raised his sword a little...and, with a certain dramatic flair, brought it down sharply on the controls of the lift. Sparks flew and electrical wires popped. The pirate jerked the sword away from the control panel and brandished it again, somehow managing to keep his balance as the concrete slab shot upwards at twice it's normal rate.

"I trust you'll remember this as the day you _almost_ caught Cap'n Ja-"

The lift reached the top of it's ascent, shutting off the rest of whatever the pirate had been trying to say.

"Damn it!" Jack yelled. He couldn't have fired; not this close to the rift manipulator. "Ianto! Get upstairs and help Gwen. I'm going to find Tosh."

Ianto bolted.

* * *

Gwen emerged into the mid-afternoon sun and sprinted down the Plass towards the invisible lift. She hoped she'd get there in time. Not only was she almost certain that the pirate would somehow manage to escape this way, she was also very conscious of the fact that there were people everywhere. She was still some distance away when she saw the figure of the pirate rising up out of the ground. He had his hat on his head, and his sword in his hand, and his musket in his belt.

As Gwen ran towards him, he sheathed his sword and paused for a second, shocked that no one had noticed him come up out of the ground. Not even the people who were sitting on the concrete blocks next to that one. He waved at them, shrugged when they didn't react and stepped down off the lift.

Tourists and citizens gasped and pointed; some laughed, some took pictures. None of them noticed Gwen barreling up the Plass at top speed. Until, at least, the pirate looked around and yelped. He took off North down the Plass – away from Gwen. It also took him away from the water, but he didn't seem to care that much. He seemed to only want to get away. The tourists scattered. The citizens shrugged; Gwen heard a few "bloody Torchwood!"s yelled in her general direction as she went past.

Captain Sparrow veered West, along James Street when he reached the end of the Plass. Gwen tried to put on more speed to catch up, while at the same time holding the button down on her ear piece and yelling her report back as she went and dodging pedestrians.

Of course, the pirate didn't run like a normal person. He...flounced. Only, it wasn't really a flounce, it was more like the same sort of skipping half-run that a flightless bird does when it's wings flap vainly against gravity. And, against all reason, he was _fast_. In next to no time at all, Captain Sparrow had run across the road and around the corner onto West Bute Street.

Gwen had managed to make up some of the distance, but her gain was lost as traffic along James Street was against her, and she had to wait for a break before she could dart across to West Bute Street. By then she was seriously lagging behind. She pushed herself harder, lungs burning and muscles screaming, all the while promising herself that she would spend more time on the treadmill and less time at the pub. Up ahead, Captain Sparrow reached the corner at Clos y Gellewin and vanished around it. Gwen caught up to the same corner, but the pirate was long gone.

"_Cnych_!" she swore.

She stopped and put her hands on her knees, trying to get her breath back. Moments later, heavy footsteps pounded up the pavement. She looked behind her; Ianto was coming up at a dead run, gun drawn. He skidded to a halt beside her, lungs heaving.

"You alright?" Ianto asked her, panting heavily.

She nodded, and then slammed her hand into her thigh in frustration.

"Bullocks!" she swore again. "He got away. Jack," she added, pressing the button on her ear piece. "He's vanished. Last seen heading West on Clos y Gellewin. Have you found Tosh yet? She can probably track him by residual rift energy."

"Tosh has been located; she was in the vaults feeding our problem child."

"How's Owen feeling?" Ianto asked as he and Gwen started to walk down the street, looking for any sign of the pirate. There was none.

"Well enough to join us in our investigation," Jack snapped back. He was apparently still annoyed at Owen, his annoyance likely compounded by the fact that Gwen and Ianto had just lost their only clue to what had been going on. "Get back here. We need to clean up this mess."

"We're on our way," Gwen said for the both of them, and they started back to the Hub. Neither Gwen nor Ianto thought much of Jack's anger; he wasn't angry at them specifically, not really. Gwen felt bad for Tosh, who should have waited until after Captain Sparrow had been interrogated to go see to Owen; she was in for a miserable afternoon. But really, could anyone blame Tosh for wanting to check on Owen? If it'd been Jack down in the vaults sleeping off a horrendous hangover, Gwen herself would have...she stopped that thought before it got any further. Gwen just hoped Jack would be calmer by the time they got back to the Hub.

"We should take some of the back tunnels," Ianto said after a moment. "One of them comes up around here."

"How many tunnels are there?" Gwen asked, wishing she'd known this _before_ she'd used the front door. There was still much she didn't know about the Hub, even after having worked there for over a year.

"More than even _I_ know about," Ianto answered. He shrugged. "There are back entrances to the Hub that I don't think even Jack knows about, and he's been around much longer than any of us."

"That he has," Gwen agreed. Ianto glanced at her, detecting the subtle note of sadness in her voice.

"You're worried, aren't you," he said a moment later. "About what might...happen. With Jack."

"Terrified," she admitted.

"Is it the schedule? Do you need more time?"

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "That silly schedule...no, it's not that."

"Then what?"

"Have you ever...?" she began. "Have you ever stopped to think of what might happen when we get old? Or if he finds someone else and moves on?"

"Or goes off with his doctor again?" Ianto finished for her. "I have. And I do. All the time."

Gwen nodded. They hadn't talked about this, the night they'd come up with the schedule. They'd joked about everything else, from sharing the man to shagging him, but they hadn't dared mention what would happen in the far distant future. This was mostly because, at that point (for Gwen at least) the far distant future hadn't included Jack in any way that wasn't a fantasy.

"What will we do?" she asked.

"Worry about that when we get there."

They reached a crossroads – literally. As they waited for traffic, Gwen let her mind wander a moment. An image popped into her head of herself and Ianto, living out their golden years in a little cottage, surrounded by the cherished detritus of a long life. Waiting for Jack to come back. Waiting together. Not as a couple, or anything like that...but together. Old friends who cared for one another in their dotage.

It was comforting, she realized, to know she wasn't alone in this. It was unlikely that she and Ianto would end up in that metaphorical cottage – there was a lifetime between now and then, and anything could happen. But even if they didn't end up there, the fact that it was possible, that Ianto _understood_, was more comforting than she had words for.

She looked down at her left hand, at the diamond that sparkled there. She still felt guilty that she was contemplating (and had practically decided on) another life with another man. She would probably always feel guilty about it. If she were a better person, the man who'd given her the ring would be the man she would be sharing her life with. If she were a better person, she would have ended it before there was a chance of Rhys getting hurt. She would never have picked up the compass that forced her to realize what she actually felt. But she wasn't a better person; she was a human person, and that was all she had to work with.

Ianto reached down and took her left hand, obscuring the ring from view. She looked up at him.

"When we get there," he repeated firmly. "Not before."

The light changed. They crossed the road.

* * *

The Hub was in quite the uproar when Gwen and Ianto finally returned. They'd had to walk all the way down to the quay to get back in; the tunnel entrance that Ianto had been _sure_ came up around where they had been was recently blocked off with cinder-blocks, probably after the whole sleeper-cell incident. And they couldn't use the invisible lift because someone was sitting on it, reading a book.

Tosh was fussing over Owen, who was looking rather green. The medical officer grinned weakly at Gwen and Ianto as they returned, faces still red from the exertion of their chase (though the colour in Gwen's face also had a lot to do with the discussion they'd had on the return journey). Ianto was hard put not to shoot Owen a dirty look for having consumed his Gran's Homemade Medicinal Distillates without permission. Even after he figured that the killer hangover that Owen was experiencing at the moment was punishment enough.

Jack was pacing the Hub and fuming.

"Any idea where he might be headed?" Jack asked Gwen and Ianto.

"No. Have you been able to get a trace on him?"

Everyone looked at Tosh.

"I've got facial recognition software running everything on every CCTV camera for every possible route he might have taken since he was seen last, but it's going to take time."

"What about residual rift energy?" Gwen asked. "We've found aliens that way before."

"Already being tracked with the rift monitoring program, but there's been no hits yet. If he's still in Cardiff, he'll turn up. Don't worry." She went back to tending Owen, who was getting better colour in his cheeks.

No one said anything as they considered their options.

"The compass?" Ianto finally asked.

Jack pulled it out of his pocket, and opened it. He nodded to himself, as if checking something, and then closed it with a snap.

"It might just work," he said. He tossed it from hand to hand again, and then opened it. The needle spun wildly, as it always did for him. But it didn't slow down; it just kept spinning. Around and around, until finally Jack closed it in disgust. "Apparently not," he muttered.

"Maybe it doesn't work on it's actual owner," Gwen suggested. "Captain Sparrow did say that it was given to him by a lady in return for 'favours'." She smiled to herself, remembering the grin that the pirate had directed at her. Her grin widened as she remembered how Jack had gone all territorial and put himself between her and Captain Sparrow. Normally that sort of thing would drive her absolutely batty, but...for whatever reason it didn't bug her as much as it should have.

She stopped smiling when she realized everyone was looking.

"How's that weather front looking, Tosh?" Jack asked, breaking the tension of the moment.

Tosh looked away from Owen and hit a few buttons on her computer.

"Still building, still heading this way. Looks like it'll make landfall around 10pm."

"Rift activity?"

"Nothing major, yet, but I'll keep an eye on it."

"Good. Tosh, Owen, stay here and keep an eye on everything. Gwen, Ianto – come with me. We're going fishing."

Gwen and Ianto exchanged a look, and followed Jack out of the Hub.

* * *

A/N: It's a bit shorter than the last couple, but...I wanted to get it written and out there so I can measure the response to Cap'n Jack. Sparrow, that is :)

So...did I murder everyone's expectations of Captain Jack Sparrow? Because I had the damnedest time hearing his voice in my head well enough to come up with things he might have said...so hopefully that worked out alright and it wasn't too outrageous. If anything I need to fix comes up, and I fix it, I'll let you know.

Ummm..._Cnych _comes from the list of Welsh swear words I mentioned in chapter two; I'll let you look it up if you're so inclined. :)

Torchwood ends in a couple of days. Boo! But Doctor Who starts up again. Squee!

And finally...once again, I'm sorry if I got anything about Cardiff wrong...I'm doing my best. My sisters and I are planning a trip there for next summer, if all goes well...but that doesn't help me in the here-and-now, so for now, just let me know if I get street names wrong or something.

Hope you enjoyed!


	12. Um

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to write. A…very bad man came into my house last Saturday morning, while we were asleep. He rummaged around downstairs, dumped out my gym bag and proceeded to refill it with my computer, and my camera, and probably a lot of other things as well. He then went upstairs and into my mother's room – at which point he woke up the dog. And the dog, the good boy that he is, chased him out of the house and down the street.

I am…not amused, as one might guess. My computer had everything on it (except, thankfully, my banking information). Most of it was backed up…picture wise, at least. But the stories, more specifically _this _story, are gone.

But despite this violation of our home, all of us are fine. A little shell shocked (and very, very annoyed), but fine.

So…yeah. Not the best weekend ever, I can tell you.

But…no sense in wittering about it! I'm just glad everyone liked my version of Cap'n Sparrow. I was terribly afraid that that would suck and everyone would stop reading in protest :)

Thank you, everyone, for reading and reviewing! Extra hugs and cookies for all!

**Recommendations**: OneWhoSitsWithTurtles is writing a wonderful story called _Not Quite Expected_, which I've (amazingly) only just found and am now working my way through. I don't know how I missed it before…it's absolutely wonderful. Evey Edge, too, has a couple of stories that are definitely worth the time to read them, especially if you like Jack/Gwen stuff: _A Twist in Time_ is just brilliant, and _Everything Changes _and _Day One_ are the first two episodes written from Jack's POV and are beautifully done. There're even some scenes with Suzie that are so well written that they might well be canon.

And if it's incredibly well written Janto smut that you're after, I strongly suggest you go check out _Faithful_ by MelindaKitty. It's only two chapters in, but it'll leave your monitor so steamed up you'll need a squeegee just to read it properly. But be warned: it's rated M for a (damn good) reason! If you read MelindaKitty's warnings and heed them then you shouldn't have any trouble ;)

**Disclaimer**: Blah

**Rating**: T!

**Warning**: There are a couple bits that seem OOC to me, but I still like them anyway. So I'm leaving them in :)

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Um…**

"So how long are we going to be at this?" Gwen asked after the first hour and a half of apparently aimless driving. She had scored the front seat by virtue of a silent conversation with Ianto that had been conducted entirely in shrugs and raised eyebrows and glances at Jack. She'd give Ianto the front seat on the way back.

"Until we find him," Jack replied tersely. "Or Tosh spots him with one of her programs."

"Or until the cows come home," Ianto muttered from the back seat.

Jack declined to comment further. Gwen and Ianto shared glances via the rearview mirror and then went back to staring out their respective windows. Jack was still in a bit of a mood.

He seemed to cheer up as the hunt wore on, though. By 5:30 pm he decided that they would search better on a full stomach so he took them to a take-away curry place for supper, and then to Bute Park to eat it in the last of the afternoon sun. The massive cloud bank far to the west was still growing. It unsettled Gwen, looking at it. She should probably call Rhys to make sure he wasn't going to stay out too late tonight.

This, of course, reminded her of her promise to go out with Jack. She wondered, for a moment, if she should postpone it for a day when they weren't chasing pirates or worrying about oncoming storms. But if she did that, she realized, she would never actually go out with him. There was _always_ something happening. Well…not counting this past week or so of next to no rift activity. That was just weird.

Best to just go out with Jack, find out whether or not this was what _he_ really wanted. Maybe get a hold of that damned compass again for extra proof, even though she was certain that it would still show her heart's true desire – Jack.

"Why Bute Park?" Ianto asked as they clustered around the hood of the SUV, eating their curried rice and chicken.

"This is where the police picked him up earlier today," Jack said confidently. "Chances are he'll find his way back here. He's out of his century, probably scared by all twenty-first century Cardiff has to offer. The park is probably at least a little familiar. He should feel a little more comfortable here, try to return."

* * *

Of course, what none of them knew was that Captain Jack Sparrow was actually several blocks away, safely ensconced in a pub and surrounded by several beautiful women and a large quantity of rum. He was also the chief object of interest for a couple of large, muscular men who _weren't_ surrounded by several beautiful women and a large quantity of rum, and who rather wished they were.

The bouncer on the door and the bartender had already begun exchanging knowing looks; the bartender had already started inching towards the decorative oak stick he hung above the bar because every bar needed a decorative oak stick as wide as his arm, especially one that could be easily reached in a fight and would come in very handy when walloping someone over the head in the midst of a nasty bar fight. It had the Red Dragon carved on it.

* * *

In a small parking lot near Bute Park, however, the three members of Torchwood were staring out at the grass and trees and wondering what to do next. There was still no word from Tosh about either of her attempts to track the pirate. Owen was feeling much better, though; whatever Tosh's hangover remedies had been, they had worked. Jack told Tosh to rummage something up from the kitchen if she got hungry. Ianto took the food containers to the trash, and the three of them set off into the park.

"So, Gwen, have you given any thought about where you want to go?" Jack asked out of the blue as they wandered around the park looking for signs of the pirate.

Gwen felt herself going a little red, but she didn't look away.

"Not sure," she answered slowly. "You did only ask me this morning, and I haven't had a lot of time to think. Besides; I thought our first priority was to find that pirate."

"It is," Jack said quickly, guiltily. "Assuming something worse doesn't happen first."

Neither of them noticed Ianto rolling his eyes behind them. He was trailing a few feet behind for the sake of nominal privacy, though he knew Gwen wasn't too worried if he heard. It wasn't as though he was going to get jealous about it. At least this time he wasn't hauling an unconscious, smelly pirate over his shoulders

"But," Jack continued. "I mean, after this is all done. We could…I dunno. Go see a movie? Get some drinks? Have a threesome with Ianto?"

Gwen threw a look over her shoulder at Ianto. He grinned slightly and shook his head. Their boss, it seemed, had a one-track mind.

"You did suggest that earlier," Gwen said. She added just enough thoughtfulness that Jack actually looked up at her.

"You'd actually be up for that?" he asked incredulously.

"Well…Ianto and I have been talking," Gwen replied, and looked down at the ground. "You know. Discussing."

"'Discussing'?" Jack couldn't help the icy shiver that slipped down his spine. Discussing _what_? Him? The thought excited him, more than just a little. And terrified him slightly, though he did his best to focus on the excitement, rather than the terror.

"And we think –" Gwen continued.

"Yes?" Jack asked before she could finish her sentence.

"We think that you, and me, and Ianto should…" she let the sentence trail off, and looked away towards the river.

"Should what?" Jack asked when the tension got to be too much.

"Go see that new Johnny Depp movie," Gwen said. "It looks quite good. Not as good as it could be, what with all the singing. But I heard it's a pretty good adaptation of the play."

Jack stared. His mouth worked, but no sound came out. Gwen raised her eyebrows.

"You don't want to see that one?" she asked sweetly. "I know it's a musical, but I heard it's a bit gory, so I thought you might like it anyway."

"I…"

"Jack?"

"I thought…"

"Yes?"

"I thought…it was out of theatres," Jack finished lamely. Damn that woman, he thought to himself. Damn her pretty hide. And her freckles. And her big green eyes. She was laughing at him now. Ianto too.

In fact, she and Ianto had left him standing in the middle of the park with his mouth hanging open. Him! Captain Jack Harkness! With his mouth hanging open. In the middle of Bute Park.

He was so going to get her for this. Getting his hopes up like that. It just wasn't _right_.

He rallied impressively, however. Seeing Johnny Depp in tight pants was definitely worth a musical.

He jogged to catch up.

* * *

The day wore on. Their reconnaissance of Bute Park proved to be a bust. Not a bust as in a 'drug-bust', but a bust as in 'a complete failure'. There was no sign of the pirate anywhere.

By the time they'd gotten back to the SUV, their search of the park had more the flavour of walk in the park than a manhunt. The three of them were laughing and cracking jokes. They were still keeping an eye out for anything that might pertain to their case, but in the mean time, they were enjoying the last of the sunlight. Pretty soon, the sun would vanish behind the huge bank of clouds building on the western horizon.

"Who's up for drinks?" Jack asked when they got back to the SUV. Gwen sighed.

"Jack, we should be looking for our escaped prisoner. Not hitting the bars."

"Just one drink," Jack said. "To relax."

"Or so you can get me drunk again and I'll wake up in your bed?"

"That too," Jack said, turning a very slight pink. "See? We're on the same wavelength."

Gwen said nothing, only shook her head.

"Come on. Tosh and Owen will keep scanning for Captain Sparrow. Owen owes us one anyway."

"He certainly owes me one," Ianto said ominously, thinking of the priceless bottle of moonshine that Owen had consumed.

Gwen glanced at the darkening sky, and then at Ianto. Ianto shrugged in return.

"Well, alright," she said. "But just one drink."

This, she thought, was probably not going to end well. Not if Jack's behaviour was any indication. Knocking off for drinks in the middle of a manhunt didn't seem very much like him. But then, they had no leads, no means of tracking the guy down, and they'd already put an APB out with the police for 'a man dressed like a pirate and smelling of rum'. So far, there'd been no hits. There really wasn't much else they _could_ do – except wait. And they might as well do that waiting somewhere in the warm.

* * *

"This place is pretty packed tonight," Gwen observed as the three of them stood in the middle of _Cachu Iar_ and joined the crowd around the bar. The odds of them getting a booth were slim to diddly squat, what with the large number of people that were there. Gwen was sure the pub would soon reach capacity. "I wonder what's going on."

Over in the corner, a young woman was setting up a microphone and speakers, and other miscellaneous sound equipment.

"Live music?" Ianto asked.

"Maybe," Gwen answered with a shrug. "We should try to..." she glanced around, about to tell Jack to be on the lookout for a booth. And spotted Jack reclining in one next to a buxom blonde and her equally endowed, brunette friend. "That didn't take him long," she said wryly. She and Ianto shared a shrug and tried to get closer to the bar.

A good ten minutes later, they emerged from the press around the bar, carrying their drinks. The two women that Jack had waylaid had vanished, leaving the booth empty save for him. A harried-looking waitress was wiping down the table, seemingly oblivious to the wattage of Jack's winning smile. Gwen and Ianto slid into the booth next to Jack and passed him his drink.

"Any idea what's going on?" Gwen asked over the noise.

"It's-" Jack started to say, but he was cut off.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" The young woman that had been setting up the sound equipment now spoke into her microphone. "Welcome to the first ever _Cachu Iar_ Karaoke Night!"

Gwen, Jack and Ianto shared frightened looks. This had definitely not been on the menu.

"I'm Nerys, and I'll be your hostess tonight. Around the bar are the books and slips. Fill one out and we'll add you to the rotation!"

Gwen wondered if it were too late to try and get out. She didn't know if she had the patience for this. Not without a large quantity of alcohol, at any rate. It wasn't the singing that bothered her; she'd grown up in Wales, after all. She'd even been part of a choir, right up to the end of high school and was a fairly competent singer - when the mood took her. It was...just not what she wanted just now.

Nerys sang the first song, and was actually quite good at it. Unfortunately, the second singer up positively butchered Radiohead's _Creep_.

Time went quickly. They rotated who went up for drinks at the end of each round to save their poor waitress the trouble of fighting through the mass of people to get to their table.

An hour or so after they arrived, Gwen was coasting comfortably on the buzz of two or three beers and a girly drink. Because of this, she was mostly able to tolerate the massacre of AC/DC's _Thunderstruck_ that was happening at the other end of the bar. A large crowd of North American tourists had taken all the seats by the karaoke machine itself, and most of the night's singers had come from there. A few of them weren't too bad, but the one who was up now, Konrad, had the unfortunate combination of a poor voice and a highly developed ego. He quite clearly thought he could sing, and he was just as clearly mistaken.

"So," Jack said conversationally after the wailing had finished. "That was awful."

"It really was," Ianto said. He was swaying slightly, owing to a trio of double rum and sodas. Jack looked at him sideways, and then mouthed "_lightweight_" to Gwen from behind his hand. She nodded in agreement. Ianto didn't notice.

"Thank you, Konrad!" Nerys the announcer said to the scattered applause from the crowd. "Up next is Gwen!"

Gwen went pale. She looked at Jack, who'd had the most recent turn of getting drinks. He'd taken a conspicuously long time in getting them, too.

"You didn't."

"_I_ didn't," Jack said, looking innocent. They both looked at Ianto, who started giggling uncontrollably.

"You're bloody _kidding_ me. What song did you put me down for?" She reached across the table and grabbed Ianto by the lapels. His eyes widened as he found him self facing a slightly tipsy, irate Gwen. "What song?"

Ianto suddenly remembered his promise to himself to never get on Gwen's bad side. Thankfully, the question was answered before Gwen could do much of anything else.

"Gwen will be singing Jessica Simpson's version of _Take My Breath Away," _Nerys continued, smiling widely. "So come on up here, Gwen!"

"No way," Gwen said, letting go of Ianto and leaning back into the booth. "I'm not doing it. Just tell her I'm in the loo."

"Go on," Jack said, and pushed her along the booths' seat. She clung to the table. "Get up there. That's an order."

"Well, you'll have to write me up for insubordination, because I'm not going. I'm not anywhere near drunk enough to sing _that_ song."

"But if we get you drunk enough, you'll sing?" Jack said quickly, jumping on the opportunity.

"I didn't say that," Gwen said defensively.

"Meet Gwen, everybody!"

Gwen's head snapped around. A small blonde had taken the stage; the music had already begun, the screen in front of her was already showing the title, the key of the song, and how many bars of an intro she had left before she had to start singing.

Gwen's eyes narrowed. Behind her, both Jack and Ianto burst into laughter. There was a clink as they toasted the success of their joke.

"You bastards," Gwen said, though soon she was laughing herself. She had to admit, it was a good joke. She wondered if the blonde's name was actually Gwen, or if Jack just put her up to it.

Whichever she was, the other Gwen turned out to be amazingly competent – though, Gwen thought to herself, the squeals of a dying cat would have sounded better than the last guy who went up.

"I think I need another drink," she said some time later, after she realized that everyone was down to empty again. She wondered if any of the booze they had been drinking was affecting Jack as much as it was obviously affecting her and Ianto. Maybe, because he was immortal, the alcohol was metabolized at an exponential rate. Maybe he just wasn't as much of a lightweight as – say – Ianto.

Whatever. She wasn't particularly concerned, even as she made it back to the table with their drinks. She had another girly drink (this one with a slice of lime on the rim), and as she sat down, Jack wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him. She found herself actually relaxing, something she hadn't done with Rhys in a very long while.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but she didn't really feel inclined to move any time soon.

* * *

A/N: Hee hee hee…you thought I was going to turn this into a songfic, didn't you? Hee hee hee hee hee!

Right. Sorry this took so long…I hope it was coherent. The original version was much better, in my opinion, but of course, I don't have access to that any more. There hasn't been much of an update since last week, save that the police think there's a decent chance of me getting my stuff back. I hope they're right.

So…yeah. Not much Jack Sparrow in this one, but he shows up again in the next one, I swear.

And I know everyone's a wee bit OOC in this chapter but…I think we all need a little bit of crack after episode 13.

Now…I'm not sure if a karaoke night in Wales is any different than a karaoke night in Canada; I do know the word karaoke is widely thought to be Japanese for 'drunken idiot', and having been to a couple karaoke nights myself, I tend to agree. So…if anyone knows of one or two details that should be mentioned about a karaoke night in Wales (like…what does everyone sing? Contemporary music or hymns? Do they have theme nights? Is it all music from Wales and England, or do they sing American/North American stuff too? That sort of stuff.), let me know and I'll work it in somehow.


	13. Oops

A/N: Sooo…you can probably guess from the chapter title what's going to happen. I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions until you get to the part that they're either confirmed or denied.

If that made any sense. :)

Thanks so much for your understanding in regards to the amount of time it's taking me to update. There's still been no word from the cops about my stuff, so I'm betting it's gone for good. Hopefully, if they don't catch the bastard this time, he'll do something incredibly stupid that'll land him in prison anyway. Still...HUGS for all. You guys are seriously the greatest.

Anyway, I have a nasty head/chest cold thing going on, so I apologize if anything is a little incoherent...antihistamines make me happy – but also a little out of my head. So, with out further ado, and with great thanks to all my readers and reviewers...Read on!

**Recommendations**: Dudes – seriously. Go read PassionPoet's _A Little Power Struggle Resolved By Some..._because it is_ excellent_. Also, shadowxwolf's _Black Eternity_ is _squee_ worthy in every way, and definitely worth the read. A wonderful pair of Jooper fics, those two. If you like Jack/Gwen stuff at all, these are the stories for you.

**Disclaimer**: The song _Green Eyes_ isn't mine. 'Tis owned by Jimmy Dorsey & His Orchestra, lyrics by E. Rivera and Eddie Woods, music by Nilo Mendez.

**Rating: **You guessed it...T!

**Warning**: I did a swear. Well…more than one. The story's rated T, so I suppose I should swear in English a couple of times...it's just that I always feel silly when I do swear in stories, because I think that one should be able to convey the emotion without resorting to vulgarities…not to say that swearing doesn't have it's purpose (you should hear me speak ;), but more that – if used sparingly – its impact and forcefulness should be utilized to greatest effect.

Also...slight OOCness to follow. Hope it's not too blatant...

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Oops**

Rhys was not having a good day. It wasn't any one specific thing; stuff just didn't go well at work. They'd nearly lost another shipment, and a client had canceled an important pick up, citing ineptitude on the part of Rhys' company. And when he'd called Gwen around lunch time, she'd been distracted, and then had to hang up suddenly. All he'd heard after she said she had to go was Jack yelling for tranquilizers and muffled screams.

He hoped Gwen was alright...she hadn't called him back yet, to let him know that she was okay. It was all he could do to not go down to the Millennium Centre himself and break down Torchwood's door. But she wouldn't want him there, gumming up the works. Mussing about. Getting in the way.

Still...the flat was depressingly empty when he got back from work. Knowing that Gwen wasn't likely to be back until late – again – didn't help much. So he just got ready to meet Daf at this new pub downtown, and tried to work out why the name of the place seemed familiar. He must have driven past it at some point.

He called for a cab; he was going to be drinking. No sense in having to pay for parking, or worry about leaving his car downtown while he caught a cab back. As an after thought, he pulled a steak out of the freezer for when Gwen got home, in case she was hungry. He wrote her a note.

The cab must have already been in the neighbourhood. It arrived soon thereafter, and Rhys directed it to _Cachu Iar_.

* * *

Gwen, Jack and Ianto had been at _Cachu Iar_ for a couple of hours when Nerys the announcer called up "Captain Jack." Gwen and Ianto looked at him, surprised, with the bleary eyes of the tipsy. They were both of them in a happy state brought on by the right amount of booze, the right atmosphere and the right company (Jack). The alcohol and company had long since drowned out the yowling amateur singers (and the occasional competent ones), even though conversation was difficult with the noise.

Gwen had to scoot out of her seat so Jack could get out, because Ianto was far too tipsy to move just then.

Immediately before Nerys called Jack up, Gwen had been reflecting that 'just one drink' had become 'four and some pub grub' without too much protest from either herself or Ianto.

Part of her thought that they really should be out searching for the pirate, or on guard in case the ship came back and started shooting at the city again, or on watch for a full scale pirate invasion.

The other part of her told her to just shut up and revel in the moment, because Jack had started buying the drinks, and he was warm and comfortable and more than willing to let her lean on him – _and _she thought, there might not be a next time. Especially if she came to her senses and went back to Rhys.

Then she wondered if it were possible to go _from_ her senses, because she was quite sure that she had come _to_ her senses when she'd realized that she was in love with Jack and no amount of not wanting to hurt Rhys would ever change that.

Now, as the man in question made his way up to the stage, she was wondering if Jack was any good at singing. And what he was going to sing. And if it was going to be sappy. Or directed at her. Or at Ianto. Or at the both of them. Ianto appeared to be wondering the same thing, and they shared one of their knowing looks, and looked back down towards the stage.

Jack had left his great coat in the booth, and had, some time ago, rolled up his shirt sleeves. He gave Nerys his most charming smile and a suggestive glance, complete with a wink. She blushed right to her roots, and smile shyly back.

When the music started with a lone clarinet, Jack looked every inch the soloist for a big band from the 1940's. Which was good, because that was the era that the music was from. Jack seemed...wistful. Likely the song had some nostalgic meaning for him.

Ianto's eyes widened with comprehension, and he grinned. He obviously recognized the song. Gwen wished that she had bothered to pay attention to that one time when Jack had lectured her in big band music. She hadn't listened much at the time, she recalled, because Jack...well, he'd been standing there, and that in itself was more than enough to distract her.

Jack started to sing...

She missed most of it. The timbre and quality of Jack's voice – a crystal clear tenor – distracted her from the mere words of the song. She hoped that Jack didn't sound this good only because she was slightly sozzled. She would have to get him to sing for her when she _wasn't _slightly sozzled. Maybe later tonight. That thought made her grin in anticipation. After all, she had pretty much made up her mind to follow through with Ianto's schedule.

And then a line reached her heart via her ears, bypassing her brain completely and leaving her with a flushed face and a heart that seemed ready to burst from sheer squealiness. Not that she would ever admit to _anyone_ (especially Jack) that she had just thought up the word 'squealiness', or ever used it in relation to herself. But that line…

"…_I fear/That they will ever haunt me/All through my life they'll taunt me/But will they ever want me/Green eyes, make my dreams come true._"

He_ was _singing it to her. And it _was_ sappy. And _she liked it_.

Maybe she should lay off the booze for a little bit. Ordinarily she would have rolled her eyes and mimed gagging. Now, she could feel her cheeks burning, and she had to look down at the table. It was a good thing Owen wasn't there; she didn't think she could handle his snarky comments. And if he'd seen her go all girly over a song like that, he would definitely have snarky comments.

She risked a look at Ianto. He grinned and winked, none too subtly.

The song ended, leaving Gwen in a happy place. The whole bar clapped as Jack made his way back to his seat and slid into the booth. Gwen found herself staring at the table again, trying desperately not to blush. Damn him for blindsiding her with this. It was probably in retaliation for her making him think that she and Ianto had actually discussed having a threesome. He just happened to be a wonderful singer.

She still caught the wink Ianto threw Jack though. The Teaboy definitely had some issues with subtlety when he'd been on the sauce.

* * *

"Look, mate," the bartender was saying to the grubby man in pirate gear. "You've run up quite a tab. I'm gonna hafta ask you to pay some off before I give you another round."

The pirate looked at the bartender, and then to the very large group of women he'd been buying drinks for the last half an hour. They were all looking at him expectantly. Several of them were wearing matching shirts with the word 'bridesmaid' on them.

"How much?" he asked at last.

"Two hundred pounds," the bartender answered.

"_Sterling_?" Captain Sparrow asked, completely shocked. That was more than he'd seen in a while, even with a good year's plundering. How could these people manage to drink if they had to pay that much for that little amount of rum? He should have stuck around in that underground bunker that the rum runners said wasn't for rum running. At least then he could have stuffed a few bottles in his pockets when he found their cache.

All he had on him were a couple one pound coins and a dabloon or two. He patted his pockets theatrically. He did have a gold coin...but then he realized he had no idea what sort of currency these people used. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to be around long enough to find out.

"Let me guess," the bartender said, reaching for his Bat of Righteousness. "You left your wallet in the car."

Captain Sparrow grinned disarmingly. "Quite right," he said. "Just let me go get it." He turned, intent on nipping outside and then booting it. The bartender grabbed his sleeve.

"Not so fast, mate," he said. "I've heard that one before. Now pay up or I'm gonna hafta call the cops in. And coppers aren't nearly so forgivin' as I."

Captain Sparrow looked down at the hand on his sleeve, and then to the corners where the bouncer had begun to get a really interested look on his face. The small crowd of muscular men he'd stolen the girls from had also stood up, sensing a chance for retribution.

Jack Sparrow was the veteran of many bar fights. Usually he stood back and let the others fight each other, but something about this impending fight was much worse than the ones he was used to.

For one thing, not everyone was that drunk. In order for a bar fight to become a_ bar_ fight, everyone there had to be at least drunk enough to think that randomly punching the closest person to them seemed like a lot of fun. Certainly like a lot more fun than calling the coppers.

For another, the women he'd been buying drinks were starting to look militant. It never did to have the women you bought drinks starting to look militant. If they were well liked among the bar's patrons, it generally meant you had a lot worse than a smack in the face heading your way.

"Well," he said. And then bolted.

His sleeve slipped out of the angry bartender's hands. The girls scattered, surprised. The muscular men shouted. The bouncer made a grab for him, but Jack Sparrow was too fast.

Once outside, he picked a direction at random and ran for his life.

* * *

When Rhys arrived at _Cachu Iar_, the karaoke night was in full swing. He hadn't expected this many people. Someone had just finished singing to tremendous applause, and the pretty blonde announcer had taken the stage to announce the next singer. With all of these people the song rotation had to have at least ten people in it. Rhys had to wonder if any of them were any good.

Even though the pub was packed, Rhys still managed to get a stool at the bar. He ordered himself a pint and wondered if Daf and the others had made it there yet. It was nearly impossible to tell, with the crowd. It had thinned somewhat; most of those who had not found a seat had left for a less packed pub. But there were still a large number of people mingling and moving around. If Daf and the others were there, they could be anywhere.

"You're new," someone said beside him. "Here for the karaoke night?"

Rhys looked to his right. There was a red-headed woman seated beside him, nursing a pint herself.

"Ah well," he said. "My friends suggested we try this place out. I didn't know there was going to be a karaoke night though."

She smiled. "It's the first ever," she said. "Are you going to sing?"

"Nah," Rhys replied with a wave of his hand. "I'm not much of a singer. Not while sober, anyway."

"For shame," the woman said, and for the first time Rhys realized that she spoke with an Irish accent. "A Welshman who doesn't like to sing? I've never heard the like!"

"There are a few of us," Rhys said with a grin. "So few we're practically our own species – on the endangered list too. We even have clubs, where we meet up to help each other get through the tragedy that is our lack of vocal talent. We call them _can't_-icles."

The red-headed Irish woman actually laughed at this, which made Rhys feel a little better. She had an infectious smile, he realized as he smiled back. Big green eyes, and freckles across her nose, high cheek bones and full lips. She was adorable. And she'd gotten his (admittedly very bad) pun on the word 'canticle'. It was almost a pity that he was engaged. Almost, but not quite.

"I'm Rhys," he said by way of introduction.

She offered her hand, and he shook it.

"Marlena."

* * *

Jack had bought them what was supposed to be their last round of drinks. He could see, quite clearly, that any more than this and he would have to pour both Gwen and Ianto into a cab just to get them home. And considering what had happened the last time he'd had them out for drinks, he really didn't want to let them out of his sight. No brick-toting muggers were going to try to attack them ever again.

This in mind, he bought also a large pitcher of water, hoping that this would start sobering Gwen and Ianto up a little. He had plans for later in the evening, and sleep wasn't on the list.

Gwen was whispering something to Ianto when Jack got back to the table with the new drinks and the pitcher of water. He set the drinks down and put on his best curious face. Gwen and Ianto both coloured when they saw him.

"Anything I can help with?" he asked as he slid into the booth. She hadn't said much about the song he'd chosen. In fact, she seemed to be having a hard time looking at him. He wondered if she realized – like Ianto had clearly done – how much of himself he'd exposed with that one song. He let his yes roam over her. "I'm really quite good."

"That he is," Ianto said firmly.

"No, no," Gwen said, not asking 'at what?' because she knew that's what the men wanted. She took her drink and drained a third of it in an effort to not look at her boss.

Jack leaned in close, causing Gwen to sit up straight and shiver.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a low voice, lips drawn back in a sultry smile. Gwen squirmed in her seat. The look Jack was giving her was setting all her nerves afire with anxious desire.

In their last night of drunken debauchery, Ianto had warned her about the 51st century hormones that Jack exuded, seemingly at will. She wondered if that was a major factor in why she seriously needed a cold shower right then.

And then the crowds parted.

In a pure moment of dramatic irony, Gwen looked up and saw him. Rhys. Sitting at the bar. With a redhead? They were smiling at one another. And then Rhys started to turn her way, started to look in her direction. She panicked.

"Quick!" she yelled over the din of the latest singer. "It's Rhys! Hide me!"

Her hands shot out and wrapped around the lapels of the man beside her, and dragged him towards her. In a moment born of the union of alcohol and adrenaline and far too many bad spy movies – she kissed him.

It wasn't, she knew, the smartest thing she could have done. In fact, just then, it was probably the _stupidest_ thing she could have done. Alcohol plus adrenaline plus Murphy's Law meant that the whole thing would turn into a complete disaster _just because_.

But it wasn't her fault that he kissed her back. Or that he tangled his hands in her hair, or that he tasted like heaven even with the alcohol they'd been drinking. It wasn't her fault that people around them started whistling in appreciation. Or that -

"Gwen? _Gwen_!"

Damnit, Rhys had come over. Her whole plan, as spur of the moment as it was, was meant to make sure that she was hidden and therefore unnoticeable. It must have had the opposite effect; the movement must have drawn his eye. Adrenaline and alcohol; a bad combination.

But what the hell was he doing there, anyway? She hadn't told him much about this place _because_ she didn't want him showing up here. He had his own haunts, didn't he? Why wasn't he there? Why couldn't have he been there? Why couldn't she have kept her head?

"What the_ fuck _are you doing?"

She broke away, breathless. Jack was staring at her, eyebrows so high up on his forehead that they looked like they were threatening to not come back down. His jaw had dropped wide. She felt a little pleased that she'd been able to fluster him so thoroughly, but the angry Rhys at the end of the table meant that she would have to feel pleased about that much later.

The redhead he'd been talking to had followed him over and now looked as though she wished she were anywhere but there. The crowd had grown as people recognized the beginning of a fight.

Guilt began to pick at the fuzzy wall that was her inebriated state. Her stomach turned sour. Just what the _hell_ had she been thinking? This was not how she was supposed to convince Rhys that he should find someone else. That she had found someone else. Or that that someone else had found her – and Ianto.

She glanced at Ianto. He was staring at her, eyes wide, breath ragged, lips swollen…

Eye wide, breath ragged, lips swollen…?

Oh.

_S__hit_.

The realization of what she'd just done hit her between the eyes with all the force and tact of a hammer.

She'd made out with Ianto.

And Jack had watched.

And Rhys had seen.

And now she felt like a pedophile because Ianto was at least five years younger than her. Never mind that she was engaged…and in love with a different man to boot. She'd made out with _Ianto_.

She wondered if Jack had been giving him lessons, because….damn!

No! _Not _'damn'! Too young – she must remember that. _Too young!_

Rhys was yelling at her. The bouncers were starting to look in their direction. This was all going to go very bad very quickly, if she didn't figure out how to fix it.

_Idiot_! She cursed herself. _Bloody _stupid_ idiot!_.

She pried herself out of her seat. Jack and Ianto stood also, Jack moving to the side of the younger man to offer him some support. Ianto looked like he needed it. Gwen collected her purse and went outside. Rhys grabbed her arm to prevent her from leaving, but she shook it off and kept going for the door. He followed. So did the redhead though she hung back, uncertain. One of the bouncers drifted behind – just in case. Some of the crowd trailed along behind, not wanting to miss a good show. Whoever had been up on stage slowly murdering Bob Marley's_ No Woman No Cry _stopped singing to see what the fuss was about.

Outside, the wind had begun to pick up. The storm front that had been building all day had almost reached the city. Most of the crowd went back inside, not liking the looks of the rain.

Rhys was still yelling. Gwen opened her mouth to offer a rebuttal –

A screaming pirate ran down the street, arms flapping in his characteristic run. Gwen, Jack, and Ianto stared after him, and even Rhys paused in his tirade. And then they heard the noise.

The pounding feet. The excited yelps. The yells for order.

They turned.

A crowd of women were stampeding up the street in full force. At least five of them were from a hen party, because they were wearing matching shirts that said 'bridesmaid' on them. The women were being chased by a small number of men. The men were being chased by a bouncer (the beefy man in the black shirt with SECURITY in white letters across the front couldn't be anything _but_), and the bouncer was being chased by no fewer than three cops in their violent yellow jackets.

Skulking behind them, at a small distance, was a furtive looking Weevil wearing a pair of tan coveralls.

The crowd vanished around the same corner that Captain Sparrow had taken moments before. The Weevil snarled at the group outside _Cachu Iar_, and then darted around the corner at a rolling gait.

Ianto was the first to break the silence.

"What the _hell_?"

"Jack!" Tosh's voice came over the intercom. She sounded excited. "Jack, I've just detected a spike in rift energy a block away from where you are. On…you're at _Cachu Iar_?"

"We're on it," Jack snapped back, not wanting to deal with questions just then. "Gwen, Ianto, with me!"

"Just a minute, mate," Rhys began hotly.

"You went out for drinks?" Tosh asked over the intercom. "Weren't you supposed to be -"

"Not now, Tosh!" Jack yelled into the ear-piece.

"I've gotta go," Gwen said, sudden excitement colouring her cheeks. The hunt was on, at last. Pure adrenaline sobered her up faster than several cold showers and three cups of Ianto's finest coffee ever could. She gave Rhys one exultant look, a look tinged with the apology she knew she should utter, and then she ran off down the street. Ianto and Jack shared a look and a shrug and a glance at Rhys, and then they too followed.

Rhys watched them go. He watched _her_ go. He would always be watching her go, he realized. She wasn't going to give up Torchwood. Not even for him.

He went back inside. Marlena was waiting.

* * *

A/N: I am soooooooo evil, aren't I? Hee hee hee!

Don't worry; I'm not going to turn this into a Gwen/Ianto fic...it was just a stepping stone on the road to a happy Jack/Gwen ending, even if it may not look it right now. And as for the song...

Weeeeeell...I didn't really turn it into a song fic...not really...:) Still...I was going to add a Jack singing scene anyway because well...you can't write a karaoke scene into a Torchwood fic and _not_ have a Jack singing scene. Especially when there's so much opportunity for 'squealiness' involving Jack and Gwen, or Jack and Ianto...I'm a fan of both (in case you hadn't noticed :)

Anyway, I'm putting the lyrics to the song that I had Jack singing at the end here so you'll know why I thought it was appropriate. Assuming, of course, that Gwen has green eyes. I've seen them refered to as brown, gray, green, hazel...so I'm picking green because...well, otherwise, the song wouldn't fit as well. And that's how I see them

Anyway, here's the full song lyrics. There's a decent video of this on youtube, if you feel like looking it up.

**Green Eyes – By Jimmy Dorsey & His Orchestra, 1941**

(Male)

Well, green eyes with their soft lights

Your eyes that promise sweet nights

Bring to my soul a longing

A thirst for love divine In dreams I seem to hold you

To find you and enfold you

Our lips meet and our hearts, too

With a thrill so sublime

Those cool and limpid green eyes

A pool wherein my love lies

So deep that in my searching for happiness I fear

That they will ever haunt me

All through my life they'll taunt me

But will they ever want me

Green eyes, make my dreams come true

-- Instrumental Interlude --

(Female)

Soft lights and eyes that promise sweet nights

Bring to my soul a longing

A thirst for love divine

In dreams I seem to hold you

To find you and enfold you

Our lips meet and our hearts, too

With a thrill so sublime

Those cool and limpid green eyes

A pool wherein my love lies

So deep that in my searching for happiness I fear

That they will ever haunt me

All through my life they'll taunt me

But will they ever want me

Green eyes, I love you


	14. A Dark and Stormy Night

A/N: So…if everything pans out as I want it to, this should be the second last chapter, barring any epilogues I feel like writing. Not because I want to stop writing it, but because 15 is such a nice number to leave chapters at and I don't know if I could write enough for the extra 5 chapters I'd need to satisfy my neuroses. So unless the story starts writing itself (well…even more than it is already), this should be the second last chapter.

But don't worry! The Plot Bunny has brought me some ideas that could definitely work. I may even make one of them a sequel (sort of) to this one, if I can swing it.

In the mean time, though…THANK YOU SO MUCH.

**Recommendations**: Starlite1 has an _amazing_ story called _Just to Make Things Right_ that everyone needs to read if they haven't already. It's an absolutely _adorable_ Jack/Gwen story, and if you like Jack/Gwen at all...

**Disclaimer**: Well, if I wasn't going to claim that they're mine at the beginning of the story, I'm certainly not going to start now.

**Rating**: T

**Warning**: There's more swearing in this one. Just so's you know.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: A Dark and Stormy Night**

The storm broke with one long, low roll of thunder.

Gwen hardly noticed. She was focused entirely on catching up to her prey.

Captain Jack Sparrow had so far eluded the crowd of women, men, bouncers, police, three Torchwood officers and a Weevil by somehow managing to be much faster than everyone else there.

Then, when the winds picked up significantly, and the rain started to fall in big, fat, cold drops, the number of stampeding women dropped to zero. Most of the men stopped too, as well as at least two of the police officers. Captain Sparrow was almost in the clear.

Ianto caught up to the Weevil and, before it could attack anyone, pounced on it. In a flash, the spray was out of his pocket and let loose in the Weevil's face. Gwen and Jack ran on.

Ianto watched his colleagues vanish further up the road. He sighed, and hoisted the unconscious Weevil onto his back.

"I'll just take him back to the Hub, shall I?" he muttered sarcastically to Jack's retreating form. "Don't mind me. I'll just be wandering through the streets of Cardiff with an unconscious, carnivorous alien on my shoulders. Should be fun."

Though, in truth, he wasn't that worried. The SUV wasn't far from where he was now, and the Weevil spray was good for several hours. Besides; after what had just happened with Gwen, Ianto was of the opinion that he needed a moment to himself. There would be time to talk everything out later, once the embarrassment had died down a little.

If it ever died down. Now he had…memories.

He had long since admitted to himself that Gwen was a beautiful, attractive, compassionate woman, and he was especially proud to consider her his close friend. He'd had…thoughts…when she'd first joined up, but that didn't really count. He wouldn't be an adult human male if he hadn't had 'thoughts', and, either way, they'd been brief and he hadn't really pursued them.

For one thing, he'd still had hope that Lisa could be saved, and for another, Jack's attraction to Gwen (and hers to Jack) had been so marked in Ianto's eyes that he had shifted Gwen into the potential friend category rather than that for a potential lover. Then the whole Owen fiasco had happened, which moved Gwen even further out of that category, and anyway, Ianto had been so caught up in losing Lisa and nearly getting eaten by cannibals that any and all thoughts of Gwen were pushed from his head.

This had started to change, however, when he and Jack had become…whatever it was they'd become. Ianto had run the gauntlet of angst and emotions and had come out the other side, if not whole, then at least mostly mended. And then Jack had left…

But he'd come back. And Gwen had gotten engaged. Ianto had begun to get a little jealous (though he would never have admitted it) because, to his mind, Gwen was now firmly off limits and yet Jack still seemed intent on pining after her.

That was the problem with 51st century morals, Ianto reflected as he trudged through the rain. They never really meshed with their 21st century counterparts, and it always caused problems. Jack had actually sat him down and patiently explained that, with all the kinds of love that a human was capable of feeling, Jack was also capable of loving more than one person. It had taken a long time for that to sink in, and Ianto _still_ wasn't sure if he understood it.

But then, he'd had a lifetime of social conditioning to the contrary. True understanding would likely be a long time coming. He was just glad that singular gender specificity hadn't been a part of that conditioning.

So in the year and a bit since all this began, Ianto and Gwen had become friends. Good friends. When Jack had gone, and Gwen had stepped into the leadership role, Ianto had supported her over Owen (which, it turned out, was fine with Owen despite him being 'second in command). They were even better friends now, since there was now no hint of competition between them for Jack's affections. If there ever really had been.

It was just that snogging her hadn't really been on his list of Things to Do Before He Died. But now that he had…

But now that he had. Indeed.

He shook his head, and shifted the weight of the Weevil slightly. Talk about being in the moment. There was no telling what would have happened if Rhys hadn't shown up…Jack probably would have intervened, for one. Or joined in.

That would have been interesting…

Still, Ianto felt guilty about Rhys. Seeing your fiancée snogging someone else was definitely a shitty way to find out she had…moved on. Even if said someone else was technically supposed to be Jack and wasn't because of a freak accident.

What were the odds of her fiancé being in the same bar as them, out of all the bars in Cardiff? What were the odds that Gwen would have panicked when she saw him, and not tried to play it cool? Hell, what were the odds that in her panic Gwen would have forgotten where Jack was sitting and gone for Ianto instead?

And he wasn't even going to _start_ with the odds on the flappy-armed pirate and the crowd of militant women. Even if they did provide a much needed distraction. All Ianto knew is that since he'd joined Torchwood – well before Canary Wharf had happened – the odds sometimes managed to be far more odd then they had any right to be.

He shrugged the weight of his burden higher onto his shoulders and tried to ignore the rain. He was quite soaked. Thank goodness he kept extra clothes at the Hub for just such an occasion. He wondered idly if it would be too much to ask to find, on his return to the hub, that Tosh or Owen had made hot coco or coffee…and then decided that they would probably ruin his carefully calibrated machine if they tried.

Ah well.

* * *

Meanwhile, Gwen and Jack had caught up to and passed the remaining stragglers. The bouncer and rest of the cops had stopped as Jack had passed them, mostly because he'd yelled, "Torchwood! We'll handle it!" as he did so.

Gwen, lungs burning as she pushed herself through the driving rain, was particularly glad that none of the police officers in the fray had been Andy. That would have been too much. Especially with the scene before the stampede had gone by.

Guilt was still pushing at her, but she ignored it as harshly as she could. In the midst of a chase, she had no room for guilt. Plenty of room for fear, but not guilt. Guilt would distract her; fear would motivate her to stay alive.

Well, she definitely was alive now. Running in the rain with Jack Harkness: There was nothing like it.

Jack glanced at her sidelong as they raced after the retreating pirate. Gwen's face was lit with the determination he so admired in her, her colour high from the exertion and the coldness of the rain.

She was gorgeous. And she had chosen him over her fiancé.

They turned down an alley, and Jack was forced to hop over fallen garbage cans, even run up and over a car.

Gwen stayed with him, the whole way.

* * *

Rain lashed at Ianto as he reached the SUV. He got the back open and stuffed the unconscious Weevil in. He was in the process of closing the back door when someone shoved him hard into the side of the vehicle.

"Where is she?" Rhys yelled. Ianto twisted around, and managed to duck in time. Rhys' fist bounced off the Plexiglas window. He shouted and held his injured hand close to his chest.

Ianto spun away from the car.

"Look," he said quickly, hands up in a gesture of placation. "Calm yourself down."

"You think you can snog my fiancée and not deal with me?" Rhys demanded. It was mostly a reiteration of what he'd been yelling before the stampede had distracted them all. But since Gwen wasn't there to take the brunt of the onslaught, Rhys had turned to the other focus of his anger. The man who'd kissed his fiancée.

"I'm not going to make excuses about what happened," Ianto began.

"Oh, so you planned it? Thought it would be a good joke to pull on stupid old Rhys? The fat old bastard left at home? He doesn't understand, does he? He's just a fat idiot."

"That wasn't it at all," Ianto tried, but Rhys was still yelling.

"Bad enough that you lot keep her out all night and put her in danger. That not enough for you, eh? What, are you all fucking one another? I thought you were gay!"

For a moment, Ianto was confused. What was he supposed to say to that? Somehow, he thought, 'only when Jack's around' would probably just result in another punch thrown his way. He needed to calm Rhys down, not provoke him further. A fine mess, this was.

"So that's it?" Rhys continued, his tone venomous. Even if Ianto had wanted to say something right then he wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgewise. "You just snogged her to see what kissing a girl was like?"

Memories of Lisa flashed lightning-quick through Ianto's mind, the pain and anguish as fresh as the moment he'd realized that she was truly lost. He took a deep breath to calm himself. It took a great deal of effort, but he managed to not lash out. Seriously thrashing Rhys would not likely win him any brownie points with anyone. Besides Jack.

"I told you; I'm not making excuses. You need to talk to Gwen, not me."

"Listen, buddy," Rhys said, drawing himself up. "I don't know what sort of games you're playing at, but you'll keep your hands off her, do you understand? Or I'll rearrange so many bits of you that you won't remember which way they're supposed to be."

Ianto debated the wisdom of pointing out that Jack would probably find this offensive and retaliate in some manner. If the Captain's behaviour on the night of the mugging was anything to go by, Jack took a great deal offense to either Gwen or Ianto being attacked. Rhys might not be exempt from this, even if Gwen stood up for him as she probably would. And the last thing they needed was Jack going off on Rhys for Rhys' (very legitimate) anger.

Rhys took Ianto's lack of response for attitude and shoved Ianto back into the back of the car. Ianto's head clunked hard against the Plexiglas.

And then something within him went _snap_, and suddenly, Ianto had had enough. A wave of fierce protectiveness washed over him. He vaguely wondered if this was how Jack felt about him and Gwen and Tosh and Owen all the time: willing to do anything to keep them out of danger, to defend their honor when impugned, to fight for them and all the while burning with pride and indignation.

Ianto finally understood. The all encompassing sense of _belonging_; it was beyond the bonds of friendship, beyond family. Mess with one of them, mess with all of them.

Perhaps the remnants of the night's alcohol were the fuel for this epiphany. Ianto didn't care. He pulled himself to his full height and looked down at the other man. He had such a look of terrible anger on his face that Rhys actually backed away a few steps.

"You have every right to be angry," Ianto said calmly, menacingly. "You have every right to discuss your problems with your fiancée. But you will do it in a civilized manner. You will not yell. You will not threaten her, or me. And if you have a problem with that, then you will answer to me and Jack. Do you understand?"

He waited a brief moment, and then whirled on one foot. He stalked to the front of the SUV, opened the door, put the keys in the ignition, started the SUV and sped off down the street to the tune of screeching tires.

He went to find Gwen and Jack.

* * *

Gwen and Jack had cornered Captain Sparrow at the end of an alley. They caught their breath as the pirate searched frantically for a way out.

"You know," Jack gasped, though managing to hold his gun steady. "This has been fun. But I really think we should find somewhere to sit down and talk everything over." He didn't glance at Gwen though he really wanted to. She was panting from the run, and heaving chest plus wet t-shirt would have done nothing for his concentration just then.

"I'd love to," Captain Sparrow said. "But I've got a ship to catch."

"Well, unfortunately, that ship hasn't been appearing through the rift since you got off it. Believe me, we've been looking for it."

"Really? Oh. They must've kept to the Code, for once in their measly lives."

"The 'code'?" Gwen asked.

"Any man what falls behind is left behind," the pirate replied. "'Tis the Pirate's Code."

"And they'd actually leave their Captain alone in a strange city?" Gwen asked. There was disbelief in her tone, but compassion as well. Now Jack glanced at Gwen. She was going to go all touchy-feely on him, he just knew it.

Jack's mind quickly processed, found amusing, and dismissed all of the innuendos in the thought of Gwen going all touchy-feely on him. He'd used them all, at one time or another.

Jack Sparrow, on the other hand, looked thoughtful, and then a little sad. "Not all of them would," he said. "But those that wouldn't weren't on me ship at the time."

"I'm sorry," Gwen said, and she meant it. She holstered her gun. "Come with us. We'll try to find you a way home."

Captain Sparrow's eyebrows went up. So did Jack's.

"Just like that," Captain Sparrow asked, though it wasn't phrased as a question.

"Gwen?" Jack finally looked at her and very carefully didn't let his eyes roam.

"He's a long way from home," Gwen said, stepping close and putting a hand on Jack's arm.

"He's potentially dangerous."

"I don't think he means anyone any harm, Jack," Gwen reasoned. "Everything he's done so far has been to avoid danger."

"Yup. Avoid danger. That's me motto."

Jack ignored Captain Sparrow's interjection and looked down at Gwen. For a moment, he just looked at her, and contemplated all the ways he _would _have reacted before he'd met the Doctor and Rose. He lowered his gun.

Captain Sparrow looked from one to the other.

"She's something, mate," he said appreciatively.

"That she is," Jack agreed, though with a hint of warning. Gwen rolled her eyes slightly. Jack's territoriality, while endearing at times, was something she wasn't really in the mood for right now.

Captain Sparrow sidled up to Captain Harkness and jerked a head in Gwen's direction.

"Married?"

"No."

Captain Sparrow grinned, and the suggestiveness was back. "Good. No sense getting tied down. Can't stand weddings, either. Rubbish, all of them."

"She's engaged though," Jack added.

"Ah. Weddings. I love weddings! Drinks all around!"

"You don't stick to any one thought, do you?" Gwen asked.

Captain Sparrow shrugged. "Pirate," he said by way of explanation, and shot her another a lecherous look. "We're very…open to suggestion. Now; shall we away to your underground lair? I 'spect I've got some people to meet before you send me home. That chair-wielding scallywag, for one."

"Don't think we trust you now," Jack said warningly, though inwardly he was rather amused with the description of Ianto as a 'chair wielding scallywag'. He was going to have to use that one later.

"Good," Captain Sparrow replied. "I wouldn't trust me either." He pointed at his chest. "Pirate."

"We gathered," Gwen said sharply. She pointed back down the alley. "You can go first. Our base isn't that far from here."

They didn't walk far. As they were emerging from the alley and into the street – and the worst of the rain, for now they didn't have the buildings to shield them from the driving winds – Ianto pulled up in the SUV.

Jack pushed Gwen towards shotgun while he took the back seat with the other Jack.

Gwen glanced nervously at Ianto as she got in. He glanced back, and she froze for a second. He was _angry_. He didn't say anything, and she wondered what could have pissed him off so much… And then she remembered _that_ and decided that he had every right to be angry at her. God only knew what Rhys was thinking right now, let alone Ianto.

The guilt, which she hadn't had time for before, was starting to find its way in. She tried to focus on the task at hand – getting a potentially dangerous pirate back to the Hub. It mostly worked. The idea of Ianto being angry at her worried her though. She had finally begun to count on him as one of her closest friends, brought closer by their shared affection for Jack. She hoped that she hadn't completely damaged that friendship when she'd snogged him.

"Who's that in the back?" Jack asked as he climbed into the back seat and shifted to watch Captain Sparrow, who was looking around the SUV at all the technical equipment in incomprehension.

"Janet's new best friend," Ianto growled.

Jack reached over and smacked Captain Sparrow's enquiring hand away from a row of buttons. "Best get it back to the Hub quick, then. Janet will want the company." He took in Ianto's tone and rigid grip on the steering wheel, but didn't ask what had caused it. He was fairly certain he knew.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Ianto pulled away from the curb, windshield wipers going at full speed.

It was broken by Captain Sparrow.

"You lot wouldn't happen to have a spot of rum on you?" he asked.

Wordlessly, Ianto reached into his inside jacket pocket and removed the bottle of moonshine that he'd taken from Owen earlier in the day. He handed it back, and replaced his hand on the wheel.

He didn't notice Jack and Gwen giving him funny looks.

Captain Sparrow opened the bottle, took one whiff, and whistled appreciatively.

"That's more like it," he said. "Even better than rum. And old, too; aged at least twenty years. I can smell it. Mostly apples?"

"Yes," Ianto replied, impressed despite himself at Captain Sparrow's nose for home brews.

"Family made?"

"My Gran."

"Ah. Smart lady." He took a sip, and sighed. "That," he said, "is probably illegal."

"It is," Jack said, taking the bottle from the pirate and grabbing a swig himself, against cold wet clothes. "Thank goodness we're outside the government."

Captain Sparrow took the bottle back and took another sip. "Small mercies, mate." he said with a shrug, and passed the bottle back to Ianto. Gwen took it so Ianto could concentrate on driving. "Small mercies."

* * *

In the Hub, Tosh and Owen were monitoring the rift, the storm, and everything else – including each other. This is why, when Owen went into Jack's office to put a report on his desk and came out holding a small object, Tosh noticed.

"What's that?" she asked.

"A memory card," Owen answered. He sounded intrigued. His hangover had almost completely dissipated, leaving him cranky – or, rather, normal. "It was on Jack's desk."

"It's probably for Jack's camera," Tosh said conversationally.

"I wonder what's on it," Owen mused.

"None of our business," Tosh replied. She tapped a few keys and called up another graphic illustrating the correlations between the storm and increasing rift activity. The line was arcing steadily upwards.

Owen, in the meanwhile, had ignored Tosh's warning and had plugged the memory card into the card reader on his computer. Cooling fans whirred as the hard drive graciously extended itself to finding the device and recognizing the pictures.

He scrolled through them.

He stopped.

His eyes widened.

"Tosh, you've gotta come see this," he said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"What?" Tosh asked, not taking her eyes off her own screen.

"This picture. I think Ianto must have taken it, while we were locked in the closet. It's of our out-going yet mysterious boss and the newbie."

"You shouldn't call her a newbie anymore; she's been here nearly two years and she ranks higher than you." But despite herself, Tosh was intrigued. She stood and came over to Owen's desk.

She caught sight of the picture.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"He's not wearing any clothes."

"No, he's not."

"And…is that Ianto's shirt she's wearing?"

"Yup. His red one."

She tilted her head to the side.

"Why are they bent over like that?"

"My guess," Owen said after a moment's deliberation. "Strip Twister."

"But…how would that even work?"

"Well, every time you slip you have to remove –"

"No, no," Tosh interrupted. "I got that. I mean –"

She didn't get to say what she meant. The rift alarms went off, startling them something fierce. Tosh and Owen leaped up from Owen's computer and darted for Tosh's. She hit a few keys, and read a few readouts, and pressed the earpiece in her ear.

"Jack, that ship's back," she announced. No one answered. "Jack? Jack!"

"Comms must be down from the storm," Owen said. "Keep an eye on that boat; I'll go take a look."

"Be careful," Tosh said.

"Oh, honey, I'm always careful," he said cheerfully, drawing his gun. "It's the pirates that should be worried."

He winked, and ran for the door.

* * *

A/N: Just one chapter left…wow. I'm going to make it extra long, because there're a lot of ends to knot and so forth. Stuff that needs explaining. Stuff that needs to happen before other stuff…you know. So it might take a while for me to write it because I have to share the family computer with at least two of my six siblings (and my parents, when the fancy takes them), but I shall get it done. And then…who knows?

So…everything good so far? The OOC-ness within expected limits? Captain Sparrow's dialogue within accepted parameters? Ianto's moment not too clichéd?

Good. Let me know if something needs to be tweaked, and I shall tweak it…or tell you you're crazy, depending on what it is :)

That episode of Doctor Who is totally going to spawn a million Ten/Rose stories. But then, _every_ episode spawns a million Ten/Rose stories, so nothing new there. :) Still…a total _squee_, that one.


	15. The Grand Finale

A/N: * pokes head out of hole again *

Well…it's finally arrived. The last chapter.

Took me bloody long enough, eh?

About all I can say is…sorry it took so long. Life sucks, and all that. But it's done now! I hope you enjoy.

Anyway, this chapter is _long_ (over 12000 words of long) so you might want to take a minute now to prepare…you know, get a snack, have a bathroom break, take the phone off the hook…that sort of thing :)

As usual, if you notice anything wrong in the spelling/grammar/details about Cardiff, let me know and I'll fix them.

Seriously, though...it's been an honor writing for you, even if RL got in the way. I'm glad you liked it, and I can't thank you enough for reading and reviewing and getting annoyed at me when I took too long to update. Thanks for sticking by me.

**Disclaimer**: As an act of minor rebellion, I'm not putting a disclaimer. This far in, why would I need to? I mean, really. Come on. You know they're not mine.

**Rating**: T_T

**Warning**: This chapter contains some Gwen/Ianto bonding. Not to be confused with Gwen/Ianto bond_age_, which is an entirely different thing all together, and might turn up in another story if I feel daring. Either way…I really only put this here so I could use the bondage pun. Please don't hate me. :) My only other warnings include the standard "Some OOC-ness", with a hefty side of "it might suck".

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: The Grand Finale**

**or,**

**The End of the Beginning of the End of the Beginning…of the End. And Stuff.**

"Bloody hell," Owen muttered as he stood in the open door to the tourist shop, staring out at the rain. He hitched the collar up on his jacket (not that this would accomplish much by way of keeping him dry) and steeled himself to step out into the rain. The Quay was deserted, and with good reason.

Lightning flashed and flickered out over the bay. Thunder rolled across the city and echoed off the tall buildings and distant hills. Wind whipped and lashed and tugged and pushed, and even standing just inside the door, Owen was getting wet from the driven droplets and the sea water that sloshed up over the edge of the quay.

"This sucks," he said aloud. But he still had to go out and see if anything could be seen concerning the bloody huge pirate ship that had suddenly reappeared after a day's absence.

With comms down, this was going to be tricky, not to mention dangerous. He wasn't going to be able to run out on the docks; waves could snatch him away in an instant. He was going to have to run up and down the quay and see if he could see something out on the water…

Taking a deep breath, he ran out into the rain.

* * *

Ianto parked the SUV in the garage and turned off the ignition. They all climbed out – but not until Jack and Gwen and Ianto had spent an entertaining minute and a half watching Captain Sparrow paw, shove and otherwise try to coerce the door into opening. Jack finally had to reach over and pull the handle, at which point Captain Sparrow got out with all the 'I meant to do that' attitude of a cat that's just fallen off the back of the couch.

As the others got out, Ianto paused and tried to get himself under a little better control.

He hadn't said a word to Gwen or Jack about his disastrous encounter with Rhys, and wouldn't so long as Captain Sparrow was there. But that didn't stop his thoughts from going into over drive, and it definitely didn't stop his mind from pulling up memories for his inspection. He shook his head to dislodge them.

He was aware that he'd probably single-handedly ruined any chances of reconciliation between Gwen and Rhys…and while he did feel a little guilty about that, what he felt more guilty about was the fact that he didn't _want_ Gwen to go back to that…man.

Somewhere in the span of time between when he left Rhys and when he found Jack and Gwen, Ianto had come to the conclusion that his happiness was contingent on Jack's happiness, and that Jack would never be happy, pining away after Gwen, and Gwen would never be truely happy or whole if she stayed with Rhys, and so - therefore - the whole 'Jack' thing didn't work if Gwen wasn't in on it too.

That wasn't his only reason, though it was the easiest to articulate. He wasn't entirely sure what his other reasons were, but he did know that if he didn't get a grip on himself, the protectiveness he was feeling for both Gwen _and _Jack would turn to possessiveness far too quickly.

Jack seemed much too busy with their prisoner/guest to talk to Ianto, but Gwen hung back as the two Jacks went down to the Hub, ostensibly to help Ianto with the unconscious Weevil.

The door boomed shut behind the two Captains. Gwen looked at Ianto. Ianto was staring at the door, wondering how he could broach the subject of his encounter with Rhys to Gwen, or if he even should right now.

"Ianto," she began.

At first he didn't hear, which led Gwen to believe that he was ignoring her. He was still staring at the door, so she didn't see the guilt and indecision emblazoned across his features.

"I've upset you," she said finally. Her throat felt thick. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking earlier. I shouldn't have…I shouldn't have done a lot of things, but…"

"You've nothing to be sorry for," Ianto said, finally looking at her. "Really."

"I don't?" Gwen asked incredulously. She'd been expecting a biting reply, or a grunt, or…he really wasn't mad at her?

"No," he said. He smiled gently. "I know you were wishing it had been Jack."

Gwen could say nothing at first. Her face started to go red and she looked down at her feet. "He's been giving you lessons, hasn't he?" she finally managed.

Ianto grinned his secretive butler's grin. "I've picked up a few things here and there," he said.

Gwen went even redder.

"I could show you some time," Ianto continued, his wit finding a way through his muddled feelings.

She laughed out loud, any and all tension between them dissolving in that instant.

"Someday," she began, but was laughing too hard to continue. Eventually, she began to calm. Then she shivered, and it wasn't entirely from the fact that she was wearing soaking wet clothing.

Ianto's grin vanished as he noted her shiver.

"Don't worry about Ingrid here," he said kindly, jerking his thumb at the back of the SUV. "Go have a hot shower and I'll find you some dry clothes. You're drenched."

She shook her head. "So are you. And we've got to find a way to get Captain Sparrow home."

"We can do that while you're not catching cold," Ianto countered. "Go."

"Yes sir," she said teasingly, and headed for the door. She paused when she reached it. "'Ingrid'?"

"We've already got a 'Janet'. And Owen got to name the last one; I believe he came up with 'Gladys', which was a marked improvement over 'Bitchface', his other choice."

Gwen smiled and shook her head, and went on through the door.

* * *

"And this, Captain, is Toshiko Sato," Jack was saying. "Our resident computer genius."

Captain Sparrow grinned lecherously (he apparently didn't know how to smile any other way), and went to corner Tosh against her desk.

Jack stopped him with a hand on his chest. "You can harass my staff later," he said sharply. "Tosh, report."

"The ship's back," Tosh said, fighting back a blush. No man with dirt embedded in his skin should be that hot. It wasn't _right_. She tried to focus on her job. It was easier. "And comms are apparently down."

"I noticed when I tried to call ahead about Captain Morgan here."

"It's 'Sparrow', thank you," Captain Sparrow corrected. "Captain Jack _Sparrow_. Though I knew a Captain Morgan, once. Dishonorable type. Runs rum outta Tortuga. Not too keen on the ladies, if you know what I mean," he added with a wink and a nudge in Jack's direction.

Jack grinned. "Oh, I know what you mean," he said, and (because he was Jack), said it suggestively.

Captain Sparrow looked a little panicked and sidled up to Tosh.

"He's not…?"

"Jack?" Tosh said, more surprised that Captain Sparrow hadn't noticed Jack's proclivities by now than by the idea of what Jack's proclivities were. Jack must be slipping; normally, he started flirting with their prisoners/guests right out of the gate, even the alien ones that Owen would label as 'fugly'. "Nah," she said. "That's just him. Anything with a post-code, that's his motto."

"Ah."

"You do have a post code, do you?" Jack asked slyly.

"No," Captain Sparrow replied. "The only post we've got on the _Pearl_ is the one we lash prisoners to before we make 'em walk."

"Sounds like fun. I may just try it out," Jack added with a wink. "After you bathe. Now, Tosh," Jack continued, leaving Captain Sparrow to splutter in indignation. "You were saying the ship's back?"

"Yes - intermittently. Owen's gone to see if he can see anything out on the bay. The CCTV footage is pretty much useless," she added. "Half the lights on the quay are out."

"Probably flying debris," Jack mused. "It's pretty windy up there. Away from the buildings, especially."

"You've got that right," Owen said from behind them. The sirens and flashing lights were whirling as the cog door shut and the metal grates locked themselves again. A puddle of water was forming at Owen's feet.

Tosh's eyes lit up at the sight of Owen's clothes completely plastered to his body. Her eyes flickered over him in a very un-Tosh-like display of attraction.

"Raining, is it?" Jack asked blandly, though his own sopping clothes gave away the fact that he already knew the answer.

"Yeah, like you don't already know," Owen sniped back. "Bloody freezing, too." He realized that Tosh was staring at him, and opened his mouth to say something scathing…but he didn't. Instead, he actually looked down at his feet and blushed slightly.

Jack grinned to himself. Those two were finally starting to get it.

"Where are Gwen and Ianto?" Owen asked in an effort to move the focus away from him.

"I'm right here," Ianto said, coming in through one of the side doors. He was dragging the unconscious Weevil by the shoulders, which Owen frowned at.

"Did a little hunting while I was away?" He asked.

Ianto ignored Owen's second question and got on answering his first. "Gwen is…" he paused and tossed a look Jack's way.

Owen frowned again. There had been a _lot_ more in that look than Ianto had said aloud. Bloody closed-mouthed Teaboy. Though, Owen had to admit: If anyone could keep a secret, it was Ianto.

"Gwen is downstairs, getting a shower." Ianto resumed his progress through the Hub.

Jack's eyebrows went up. "I thought she was going to help you with the Weevil?"

"I told her to get a shower instead," Ianto called back, and the door that ultimately led to the vaults banged shut behind him.

"Well, there's a new thing," Owen muttered. "Since when does Gwen take orders from _Ianto_?"

Jack gave him a Look. Owen held up his hands defensively.

"What?" Owen said. "I'm just saying. Ianto's not exactly the ordering type. More like the one who bends over and – "

"Owen."

"What?"

"We have company."

Owen rolled his eyes. "Fine. But something's up between those two."

Jack said nothing. He knew precisely what was up between Ianto and Gwen. He had been there. He hadn't had a chance to replay the entire incident over in his mind – and, he promised himself, he would definitely take the time later, repeatedly, if necessary – but he definitely remembered.

Ianto reappeared some minutes later, during which time Jack finished showing Captain Sparrow about the Hub. Ianto, minus one Weevil and rubbing the small of his back, met Jack's eyes and turned slightly pink.

"Weevil's in cell six," he said. "I put her in with Hubert and Dolly."

"Well, I'm sure they'll get along," Jack said.

"I hope so," Ianto said dryly. "I would hate for Ingrid to feel unwanted."

Captain Sparrow looked back and forth between them. "How many of those creatures do you have down there?" the pirate asked.

Ianto opened his mouth to state the exact number – and the rift alarms went off.

The four members of Torchwood looked a little guilty. They should have been trying to think of a way to get the pirate captain out to his ship, not lollygagging and chatting about Weevils or – in the case of Tosh – drooling over sopping wet coworkers.

"What is it now?" Jack asked as they all turned to Tosh's computer.

"A signal; same area as the first. Another ship, perhaps? No..." She tapped a few more commands. "It's the same ship as before."

"Great, just what we need. More pirates. We better figure out a way of communicating with them soon, or else Cardiff is going to be knee deep in swashbucklers. Owen, start getting the gear together. Tosh, keep an eye on Cap'n Crunch here."

"Sparrow," Captain Sparrow muttered, rolling his eyes heavenward. "Captain Jack _Sparrow_."

Everyone ignored him.

"Ianto," Jack continued, thoroughly involved in his order giving, "…actually, never mind. I'll take Gwen's clothes down to her." He grinned evilly, spun on his heel and marched off down to the showers, leaving four very confused people in his wake.

* * *

The tap squeaked as Gwen twisted it off. Her hand groped around outside the shower curtain, looking for the towel she'd hung up for herself. She didn't find it. She stuck her head out instead.

"Looking for this?" Jack asked. He held the towel up in one hand, and grinned.

Gwen went red.

"Yes," she said, carefully holding the curtain across herself. "Can I have it?"

Jack stuffed the towel behind his back. "Only if you come and get it," he said with a grin that could melt butter at fifty paces.

"Jack, we don't have time for this," Gwen said, alarmed. "We've got a pirate in the Hub again, remember?"

Jack didn't budge.

"Jack," she tried again, opening and closing her hand in the universal sign for 'give it here'.

He grinned at her.

"Jack, you're wasting time."

His grin widened.

She seethed for a moment, considering her options.

"Fine," she said finally. In an act far bolder than the Ianto snog-fest of that evening, Gwen threw aside the shower curtain, marched across the shower room floor and stopped within inches of Jack.

He didn't even _try_ to keep his eyes from roving all over her before he dragged them back to her face. Nor did he keep the mixture of shock, excitement, appreciation and a hint of worry off his features. He couldn't have even if he'd wanted to. Her display was hardly wanton, considering when he came from, but for _Gwen_…she might as well as signed up for stripping lessons.

Staring him directly in the eyes – and doing her damnedest not to blush – she reached around and pulled the towel out of his hands…and froze.

He'd leaned closer. His face was inches from hers, his breath hot across her lips. She swallowed hard, and tried to think of what to do next. Part of her wanted to flee. She still needed to talk to Rhys, to fix what she'd broken earlier that day. She shouldn't be doing this. Especially not after snogging Ianto, and especially not with the remnants of her night out still in her system.

What would they think? She had agreed to marry one man, fallen in love with another, made out with a third, and was now standing bare-ass naked in front of the second who was _very_ happy to see her, if she was any judge. However much Ianto understood their unique predicament, he would probably find this sort of man-hopping to be just a little bit...much. And she wanted his understanding. More than anything else, his acceptance of the situation kept her calm and accepting herself.

The rest of her didn't listen to that part of her mind, however, and stayed put. Whatever her misgivings, she found that she was quite comfortable with the situation. A little guilty, perhaps, but comfortable.

Without warning, Jack's hands reached out and traced the line from her shoulders to her collarbones and the hollow of her throat. He wrapped his long fingers around her neck, and his thumbs drifted upwards to tilt her chin back. A tremble ran up and down her spine. Every hair on her body stood on end. Her eyes drifted close and her breath caught.

She felt his breath across her lips, knew what he was about to do and rejoiced in it…

"I hope I'm not interrupting," a voice said from the doorway. Gwen jumped backwards with a squeal and pulled the towel in front of her, and was saved from slipping by a very timely grab from Jack. As soon as she was steady, Jack turned around and looked annoyed.

Ianto was standing there, blandly amused. He was holding a pile of clothes. Gwen's clothes, fresh from the dryer.

"_Ianto_!" Gwen squeaked, blushing from her toes to the roots of her hair.

"You see, sir," Ianto said without even looking at Gwen, "I noticed that when you said you were going to bring Gwen her clothes you had, in fact, forgotten to bring them."

"Ah. Yes. Thank you for pointing out my oversight."

"I aim to serve," Ianto said, completely deadpan.

Gwen had taken the moment of their mutual distraction to wrap the towel securely around herself. She stepped forward and took the pile of clothes from Ianto, unwilling to look at him. Without saying a word, but with a longing glance in Jack's direction, she fled the shower room for a free – and private – place to change.

When she was gone, Jack looked at Ianto. "You have the worst timing of anyone I've ever met," he said, but fondly.

"Just doing my job, sir," Ianto replied with a twinkle in his eye.

"What have I said about calling me 'sir' when we're alone?"

Ianto merely laughed.

But then Jack turned serious.

"You think she'll stay with us?" he asked, in a rare moment of fear. He wasn't discounting this most recent of encounters, but…women could be strange sometimes. Hell, so could men. And most aliens. And robots, but they weren't too hard to manage so long as you remembered the lubricant.

Ianto considered Jack's question and tried to keep the flush from colouring his cheeks too much. The events of the evening were still very much in the forefront of his mind, a fact that he had expertly concealed when confronted with a nude Gwen, however much she'd been hiding behind Jack.

"It would be easier for her if Rhys was out of the picture," he said finally.

Jack grinned, Ianto's clichéd phrase reminding him of the tempographic picture. He had recognized the redhead this evening, and couldn't deny the fact that his heart had done a happy dance at the idea of her stepping in. But still…that wasn't the only potential future he'd seen in that picture. There was still a chance…

"And if he was?"

"I think he pretty much is," Ianto said ruefully, thinking of his disastrous encounter with Gwen's enraged fiancé. He sighed, and didn't elaborate – on that, anyway. "Jack, she loves you. She has largely from the moment she first saw you. But you had to go and tell her to hold onto her normal life. It's caused her a lot of confusion. She's _this_ close to choosing you over Rhys. But he could still persuade her to stay with him. Because _you_ told her to hang on to him."

Jack made a face.

"She's kept us connected with the outside world," Jack said. "We needed that. We needed to remember who we were."

Ianto was silent for a moment. "You're right," he said. "We do need to remember who we are, remember our connections with everyone one else. Remember that we're still human. But we can't always rely on Gwen for that. We have to make the effort to connect _ourselves_. If Gwen is the only one asked to keep that link open…it'll burn her up, Jack. Especially now that she's lost one of the biggest anchors holding her there."

"You just said Rhys could persuade her to come back to him," Jack said, slightly confused and more than a little intrigued.

"He could. If he hasn't left. Though I'm pretty sure he has," Ianto added evasively.

"What makes you think that?" Suspicious now.

Ianto could feel the colour creeping up his cheeks, a dead giveaway that he knew the reason why. "Couldn't say," he muttered and looked away.

Jack stared at him for a moment, clearly weighing his chances of finding out simply by asking. Ianto dreaded the question. If Jack put on his 'I-love-you-but-I'm-wounded-by-your-lack-of-trust-in-me' face, Ianto would cave and tell him about what had happened before he could get a chance to talk to Gwen about it.

Eventually, Jack sighed. He crossed the distance between them and pulled Ianto in for a hug. Ianto went willingly, relieved. He didn't say anything. He could have said a lot of things, but, for now, he said nothing.

"You're right, you know," Jack said after a while. "About Gwen. You usually are. I was just so afraid of loosing her that…"

"You don't have to explain," Ianto said. "Psychology was never my strong suit anyway."

Jack pulled back. "Good. Let's go get this pirate home, and then we can celebrate properly."

"Just…let's not go back to _Cachu Iar_ tonight. Even if they did let us in…"

"Fine with me," Jack laughed. "I believe you and Gwen promised me Johnny Depp in tight pants anyway."

* * *

"The ship's back then?" Gwen was asking when Jack and Ianto finally made it back up to the main part of the Hub. Gwen took one look at the pair of them and blushed furiously. She looked away hurriedly, but not before Tosh, Owen and Captain Sparrow noticed.

"The plan is to go out and meet them, give them back their Captain, and hopefully not get shot in the process," Jack announced loudly as he grinned at Gwen's discomfort.

"And my compass," Captain Sparrow added.

Jack winced. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to give the instrument back. It had been more than helpful in the past few days.

"And your compass." He still shot Captain Sparrow a significant look. As though to say _I know what it does and I'm giving it back anyway_…

Captain Sparrow apparently understood, though it was hard to tell what the pirate was thinking. Jack did note that the pirate was paying a little more attention to Gwen than before. He felt the stirrings of something unfamiliar within. But he hadn't been jealous in so long that he thought he was just hungry.

Gwen, on the other hand was – apart from the lingering blush – all business. She was listening raptly to Tosh, who was expounding on the dangers of the unstable hole in the fabric of space/time that the ship had come through, and how it was probably a good idea to stay away from it. She was also avoiding looking directly at Jack or Ianto

"How are we going to get Captain Sparrow out to his boat in this weather?" Owen asked.

"Oh, I've sailed through worse," Captain Sparrow said. "Reminds me of the time when we sailed for the _Ile de Muerta_, an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is…"

"How can that work?" Owen piped up. "It's an island. It's not like it's going anywhere."

"It's protected," Captain Sparrow shot back, annoyed that the story of his exploits was being interrupted.

"By what?"

"By –"

"By the same sort of perception circuit that keeps invisible lift invisible," Jack interjected before Owen could get any snippier. "Or so I imagine, anyway. Now, I hate to do this to all of you – especially since Gwen just got all nice and dry – but we need to get back out there and get Captain Hook back to his boat and back to Never-Neverland."

"It's _Sparrow_," Captain Sparrow muttered again.

"Whatever. Let's go."

* * *

It was still raining. A lot. But this time, everyone had full rain gear on. It didn't look as cool and as badass as their normal clothes – yellow rubber coats and pants and Wellington boots never looked cool on anyone – but it was a damn sight better than getting soaked to the bone again.

Except for Captain Sparrow and Captain Harkness, that is. No violent yellow jackets for them. The two Jacks were in their usual period costumes, though Captain Sparrow had retrieved his long leather coat and had put it on before ramming his hat down on over his dreadlocks with a look of grim satisfaction.

Before they set out, Gwen found herself sharing appreciative looks with Tosh at the fine figure that Captain Sparrow cut in his period clothes and swaggering air. Even if the pirate was in dire need of a bath and smelled vaguely reminiscent of wet dog, they were nudging one another and giggling when Gwen happened to look up and glance at Ianto and Jack, the latter of whom was standing next to the cog door and looking mildly peeved.

"Can we go?" Jack asked. "Or can the fate of the world wait until your little girl-chat is over?"

"Coming," Gwen said, and gave Tosh the internationally understood, females-only glance that so succinctly meant '_men'_. Tosh gave the answering shrug and slight roll of the eyes and returned to her work station.

Once outside, Gwen tightened the hood of her rain jacket and wished she'd put on an extra sweater beneath it. Jack's mauve one would have done nicely, but it was still at her apartment. She shared a look with Ianto. He smiled slightly down at her, and she felt a renewed sense of happiness that she hadn't completely destroyed their friendship earlier that evening.

That thought brought worry and guilt about Rhys, but worry and guilt about Rhys would have to wait. They had a pirate to return to his own time period.

She wondered how long it would be before Jack or Tosh pointed out that the hole in the space/time continuum where the ship came through was dangerous to the continued existence of the planet.

"Gwen, Ianto and Captain Sparrow –"

"Finally, he gets it right," Captain Sparrow muttered. Jack shot him a dirty look and continued.

"You three will go east up the quay; see if you can find a boat to take us out – or the good Captain at least. Owen and I will do the same up the western side. Keep an eye out for landing parties; if they're looking for their Captain, they may already be ashore. If that's the case, we'll hand him over and he can head back to where he belongs. Got it?"

They all nodded.

"Good. Let's go. We can't leave that hole open much longer! If it gets any bigger, the whole _city_ might be pulled into the past."

Gwen nodded in full agreement to this expected comment, and turned to Ianto and Captain Sparrow…or, rather, to Ianto and the hole in the air where Captain Sparrow had been standing up until this point and now no longer was.

"Where'd he go?" she asked in general. They all looked around, peering into the darkness, trying to see where the pirate had gone.

He was standing on the railing. The _railing_. The only thing between the pirate and the angry water was wind and rain. He seemed completely unfazed by this, and instead was walking up and down the thing as if it was a wide, level sidewalk, rather than a thin railing. He appeared to be trying to peer out to sea.

"What are you doing?" Gwen asked, wondering when Captain Sparrow was going to notice that the railing was actually a chain and not solid wood. "Get down before you drown!"

"Drown?" Captain Sparrow shouted back, surprised. "How can I drown up here?"

"Get down!" she bellowed into the wind, pointing at the solid quay beneath her feet. She figured, ruefully, that most of her words would be stolen by the wind, but she had to try anyway. "Because however great a pirate you are, if you fall off, you still can't breathe water. So get down; we've got a job to do!"

Instead of answering, Captain Sparrow rolled his eyes and headed off down the quay – on the railing.

"At least he's moving in the right direction," Jack said. "Come on, Owen. We'd better move ourselves."

Gwen and Ianto jogged off in the same direction as Captain Sparrow had taken

"Can you see anything?" she asked Ianto some long, wet, struggling minutes later. He glanced down at her and smiled slightly.

"Not yet," he said – yelled, rather – into the wind. "It looks like there could be lights out there, but that might be the Barrage."

The continued along the Quay for another few minutes, looking out to sea as best they could with the rain being blown into their faces. With the wind, the fastest speed they could manage was a slow walk, which was not good when one had memories they'd rather not be remembering just then. Captain Sparrow had vanished into the gloom a few feet ahead. Gwen couldn't even see his silhouette in the dim, orange light of the street lamps and in the flickering lightning. She tried to walk faster, but the wind pushed her back.

Ianto grimaced and shifted so that he blocked Gwen from the worst of the wind.

"Thanks," Gwen said, pulling the strings of her hood tighter.

Ianto smiled down at her. The protectiveness that he'd felt earlier in the evening had not abated. Rather, with the wind and the rain and potential danger, he felt even more driven to keep her from harm, if not for her own sake than for Jack's.

"It would be better if we could stay in the warm, like Tosh," Ianto remarked.

"Too bad we're not computer geniuses then," Gwen grinned back.

"_I've got comms back, everyone_," Tosh's voice came through their ear pieces a few moments later.

Gwen sighed in relief. She had been afraid that having no comms would mean that they would have no backup in case of emergency. Now that the comms were back, she felt a lot better.

"_Wonderful_," they heard Jack answer. "_Anything yet, Gwen, Ianto?"_

Ianto held a hand to his ear. "Nothing yet, sir. All of the boats seemed to have been secured on dry land before –"

But Ianto didn't get to finish his sentence. A shadow detached itself from a door frame, reached up and hit him firmly on the back of the neck. He crumpled.

Gwen's gun was in her hand before Ianto hit the ground.

"Stay where you are!" she bellowed over the rain, training her gun on the shadowy figure hunched over the crumpled Ianto. One hand left her gun to press the button for the comm. "Jack, you need to get down here. Ianto's been attacked."

"_On my way_," Jack replied, and Gwen could tell he was worried by the terseness of his reply.

Gwen renewed her aim at the hunched figure. "Hands above your head! Back away slowly," she said firmly, "and you won't get hurt."

In her ear, she could hear Jack and Tosh and Owen coordinating, tracking them down. They were still a minute or two away. Jack and Owen must have split up at some point.

Adrenaline coursed through her system, keeping her hand steady despite the wind and rain. Even with the adrenaline, or perhaps because of it, she felt sick to her stomach. Ianto still hadn't moved.

She advanced forward slowly as the figure backed up. She could see more of him now, in the flickering of the lightning. He was definitely a man. Longish, dark hair glued to his head from the rain. Clothes from the same period as Captain Sparrow's, also glued to him from the rain. Facial hair of indeterminate shape, but probably a goatee. And fierce eyes, almost too fierce for a face that young.

He had a sword. Lightning glinted along its length. The hilt was what he'd hit Ianto with. Gwen sent Whomever was listening a silent prayer of thanks that it hadn't been the blade, and tried to get her heart rate back under control. It wasn't having any.

"Drop the sword, and back away!"

"Drop your own weapon." A strong feminine voice in her ear commanded Gwen's attention. So did the cutlass at her throat.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Gwen said, cursing herself for not noticing the second pirate. Pirate wench, she corrected to herself. Bloody bint had a sword at her throat. She released her gun and let it swing from her trigger finger. The man stepped forward and took it from her, holding the unfamiliar weapon gingerly.

"Take us to Jack Sparrow," the woman said, and shifted to deliver a killing blow. "Now."

* * *

As soon as Gwen's call for help reached him, Jack wheeled about and ran in the direction he'd come from. His heart thudded in his chest. A small fragment of his mind cursed himself for loving two people so ephemeral, but – as he reminded himself – such matters were never left up to chance or choice. And, he knew, he would rather spend this time with them while he had the chance. It was well worth the pain he knew was to come.

Tosh was shouting directions into the intercom. Jack largely ignored them, since they were mostly for Owen's sake. Owen had gone off to check a dock for boats and/or pirates when Gwen had called for help. Jack hadn't waited for him.

Instead, Jack skidded to a halt on a corner, and pulled out Captain Sparrow's compass. The needle skipped its usual wild spin – it was pulling with all force towards a single point. Gwen and Ianto were both there. He closed it with a snap and kept running.

It seemed to take forever, running full tilt through the rainy night. And it wasn't the exhilarating, freeing run that he'd had with Gwen at his side earlier. This time, finding the energy for each and every step against the wind, to see through the darkness, to avoid the flying debris and parked cars, was almost more than he could take.

Finally, a small eternity later (a span of time he knew far more about than he liked), Jack half heard Tosh telling him he was close. He could see everyone now, illuminated in the stormy night by the orange glow of a streetlight and by the intermittent lightning.

He slowed up as he approached, not wanting to give away the fact that Gwen had an ally so close to the pirates that were holding her and Ianto hostage. Ianto was sprawled on the ground, apparently unconscious. Gwen was being held at sword point by what looked to be a woman – it was hard to tell in the uncertain light of the lightning and the streetlamps. Jack did his best to clamp down on his anger before he did something stupid and blow his chance of a surprise attack.

A piece of wood – a tree branch? – came sailing out of the night and the streetlight shattered. Jack ran forward. There was a brief scream, and the sound of a scuffle. Gwen's gun went off and Jack's stomach dropped because who ever yelled might have been Gwen or Ianto, and he couldn't loose them…he just couldn't…

Lightning illuminated the scene.

* * *

When Owen arrived, he found a great deal of work for himself.

Jack was gloating over the form of a young man with a goatee and out-of-date clothing, who was also clutching at his leg and cursing 'pirates' despite the fact that it was clear that he was one himself.

Gwen was standing triumphant over a subdued but spirited young woman who was glaring as though it would cause Gwen to drop dead that instant. Gwen's gun was also drawn, and never wavered despite the wind.

Ianto was sitting up and rubbing at the back of his head, looking dizzy and uncertain.

Owen saw to the wounded man first out of a long habit of following the rules of triage. The man had been shot in the leg, apparently by Gwen (Owen reminded himself to not piss her off for at least three days after this). The bullet had missed the femoral artery, however, so the young man was in no immediate danger of death by exsanguination.

"Let him approach," Jack ordered when the wounded man seemed unwilling to be treated. "He's a doctor."

Owen knelt and examined the wound carefully. "It's clean," he called back to Jack. "Went all the way through. A few stitches and he'll live to pillage another day."

"Good," Jack replied, voice hard as the pirate glared. "See to Ianto."

Owen nodded and darted to Ianto's side. He crouched down and shone a penlight into Ianto's eyes. The pupils retracted accordingly, and Ianto winced at the intrusion.

"Steady on, Teaboy," he murmured dragging the light across Ianto's vision to make sure he could track the movement.

"I'm fine," Ianto said, but he submitted to the quick check up because it was easier than batting Owen's hands away.

"That's for me to decide," Owen replied. Mild concussion, Owen concluded to himself, because Ianto's dizziness seemed persistent despite his claims of feeling fine. He would at most have to be watched, and woken up every few hours or so. He added to himself, sarcastically, that Jack would probably volunteer for the job. He got Ianto standing, and was somewhat surprised when Gwen came over to support the younger man, though he was much taller than herself.

"Shall we to our headquarters then, my lady?" Jack asked the pirate woman. She shifted her glower from Gwen to Jack.

"Where is Captain Sparrow?" she asked.

"That's a good question," Jack said. He glanced at Gwen, who shrugged. "When we find him again, we'll return him to you. In the mean time, your friend here needs medical attention. Get him up," he added to Owen. "We're going back to the Hub."

* * *

Tosh watched with widened eyes as Owen stumbled through the cog-shaped door with a pirate on his arm. It wasn't Captain Jack Sparrow. The new pirate was also limping, grimacing in pain, and trailing blood down one leg. A woman in men's clothing from the same era as Captain Sparrow's came in after, at gun point, with Gwen behind her, Ianto next to her. Jack took up the rear.

No matter how hard she tried, Tosh couldn't make that sound any better

"Where's Captain Sparrow?" Tosh asked. No one had thought to fill her in on what had happened since Gwen had called for help, and Tosh had been getting more and more high strung with worry because of it.

"Good question," Jack said again. He looked at Gwen.

"Last I saw him he was in front of us, and then these two attacked Ianto," Gwen said, indicating that their prisoner take the seat next to Ianto on the couch. She shifted so she could guard the woman and fuss over Ianto at the same time.

"So you shot him?" Tosh asked Jack, pointing to the man that Owen was currently hauling down to the autopsy bay for a quick surgery.

"No. Gwen shot him. But that came after. How's the hole in the rift doing?"

"It's getting smaller, oddly enough," Tosh said, tearing her attention away from the clothes clinging to Owen's torso. "We've probably got an hour and a half before it's too small for their ship, and it'll be gone within two."

"Then we'd better find Captain Sparrow and fast," Jack said. "Patch him up quickly, Owen," he yelled. "We need to send them home! So," he added, turning to their other guest. "What are your names?"

The woman, currently being guarded by Gwen, glanced around sullenly. She appeared to weigh the option of telling their names against the unnamable horrors that an unknown underground facility could produce, and then settled for the first option.

"I am Elizabeth Swann," she said. "My father is the Governor of Port Royal and will pay any ransom you wish." She spoke imperiously, as though from a throne, instead of the couch on the ceramic wall.

"Good for him," Jack said, completely unimpressed. "But you're a long, long way from Port Royal, Miss Swann."

"Might I ask where we are?"

"Cardiff."

"_Cardiff_?" Elizabeth practically shrieked. Her nose wrinkled slightly, as though smelling something off.

"Yes, Cardiff," Jack said with a dangerous grin. Very few made fun of his city and escaped unscathed. "I understand you thought you were in the Caribbean." She nodded mutely. "Well, you're not. You came through a rift in time and space. We're going to send you back."

"And...Captain Sparrow?"

"As soon as we can find him again, we'll be sending him home – with you, if possible."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"You have my word as a Captain," Jack replied, "and as a most enchanted Captain at that."

"Save your charms for the dockyard, Captain," Elizabeth shot back, "I have no need for them."

Jack's eyebrows went up in an expression of mock hurt. "Upon my word!" he exclaimed, dropping easily into the same high-class accent that Elizabeth used. "Your manners leave much to be desired. Impertinent girl! And you, the daughter of a governor! For shame!"

Elizabeth went an interesting shade of red, and straightened, spluttering indignantly. Jack, for his part, was enjoying himself thoroughly. Especially since he knew everyone was staring at him.

Elizabeth seemed to collect herself. "You may speak as a gentleman," she said, "but I can tell you're worse than Jack Sparrow."

"I am an officer and a gentleman, ma'am," Jack replied smartly. "Always."

Gwen and Ianto shared a look and rolled their eyes. Jack might be an officer, but 'gentleman' was a person he could – and did – put on and take off at will.

In truth, Jack was a little surprised that Elizabeth had picked up on the more rogue-ish of his behaviours. If Gwen had been asked, it would have been found that she wasn't surprised; Elizabeth hung around with pirates. Jack, like Captain Sparrow, embodied all of the romantic ideas of pirates. The correlation between them was a natural product of their comparison. The Captains Jack were very much alike, a fact that had escaped both of them and would likely piss them off if they knew.

Gwen studied their prisoner closely. High born, she was – apparently, if her accent and claim that her father was a Governor were true. How old was she? Eighteen? And what was she doing wearing men's clothing? Wasn't that sort of thing frowned on considerably during that time? Ianto would know…

And that thought brought her to their other prisoner and what he had done to Ianto. Owen had said it was only a mild concussion, but that didn't stop white hot anger from coursing through her veins whenever she thought of how she'd been unable to protect him, and at the callousness of the man. She'd gotten him back, though.

Maybe some of Jack's territoriality was rubbing off on her, she thought. Any other night, and she would be in mental and emotional agony from having caused another person pain. Tonight, though, she'd shot a man in the leg – and felt good about it.

"What's his name?" she asked, indicating with her head where Owen was busy patching up with wounded man. Jack shot her a questioning look but she didn't respond.

"You mean the man you shot?" Elizabeth snapped.

"Yes, him," Gwen snapped back. "The man who hit my friend over the head with the arse end of a sword merely because he was there. What's his name?"

Elizabeth drew herself up. Jack subtly positioned himself between the two women to prevent a potential cat fight. Even Tosh looked up from her computer readings to see what was going on.

"His name is William Turner," Elizabeth said coldly. "He is my fiancé, and a good man."

Gwen nodded, though she was far from appeased. She realized that she had one hand on Ianto's shoulder, and then decided to leave it there.

"Gwen," Jack suggested gently, "why don't you take Ianto down to the medical bay and see if Owen has some painkillers hidden away?"

Gwen glared, first at Jack and then at Elizabeth. Still, she didn't argue, but holstered her gun and helped Ianto up.

When they had gone, Jack gave Elizabeth a considering look, and then pulled the compass out of his pocket and opened the lid. Elizabeth stared in wide-eyed surprise.

"That's _Jack's_ compass!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"So he said," Jack replied, letting the needle spin. He'd been practicing. Shifting his concentration slightly, he let the needle bounce from Gwen to Ianto to the planet on which he was (to be) born, to the Doctor – who, it appeared, was everywhere at once, because the needle always spun without aim whenever he thought of the Doctor. And with good cause, too; Jack would challenge anyone to point to last week; time had no direction when one was confined to a mere four dimensions. "I need you do to something for me," he added.

Elizabeth watched the compass spin with confused interest. "What?"

"You do know what this does, right?" Jack asked her.

"It doesn't point North," she replied evasively. Jack grinned.

"It will, if North is what you're looking for."

"I don't understand," Elizabeth shot back.

"Yes, you do," Jack replied.

Elizabeth watched him for a long moment, and then appeared to decide that Jack already knew enough and that deception was pointless. "Fine. I was aware of what the compass can do. What do _I_ have to do with _it_?"

Jack sighed. "It won't find Captain Sparrow for me," he said. "I believe it's because I don't _want_ him to be found. If he is, I have to give this back, and this...this thing is much too addictive for its own good. You know, I had a boyfriend once, this delightful Rasptallion. They're green, but the skin under their chin flap...anyway, he was telepathic – and he could tell you anything you'd want to know, and..." He trailed off and seemed to remember who he was speaking to. He looked down at the instrument in his hand, and at it's bouncing needle.

The compass closed with a click and he tossed it to a very startled Elizabeth. "I need you to find him."

She stared at him. "How?"

"Concentrate."

* * *

In the autopsy bay, which was sometimes referred to as the medical bay for the sake of visitors they didn't want to alarm, Gwen had sat Ianto down on an exam table and was fussing over him, even though both Jack and Owen had pronounced him hale and fit for duty. He batted her hands away gently, and caught her eye.

"I'm _fine_, Gwen," he said. "Really."

Gwen dropped her hands with a sigh. "You sure?"

Behind them, Owen was putting the finishing touches on Will Turner's wound by way of several yards of elasticized, gauze bandages. From where they were sitting, they couldn't see Owen's look of mild confusion at Gwen's sudden and intense interest in Ianto's well being. But, of course, he hadn't been at _Cachu Iar_ earlier.

"Quite sure," Ianto said. He levered himself up off the table he'd been sitting on and moved to stand where he could watch Jack continue to speak to their pirate wench prisoner. Gwen followed.

They watched Jack toss Elizabeth the compass with some trepidation. The compass was one of their only bargaining tools when it came to Captain Sparrow; it was clear he wanted the thing back. Gwen had thought they might have had to dangle it in front of him until he was back on his own ship.

Plus, how did they know they could trust these pirates? They could very well be sent to make sure Captain Sparrow didn't _ever_ get back.

"There we are," Owen said behind them, indicating that Will Turner could get up. The pirate did so, gingerly putting weight on his wounded leg.

"Thank you," Will Turner said softly.

"No problem, mate," Owen said. "Just next time, don't hit people over the head when _she_'s got a gun. It always ends badly."

"I can safely promise that," Will said, and Owen helped him up the stairs and out to the couch by the ceramic wall while Gwen and Ianto watched from the autopsy bay. When Owen returned, he began gathering up his surgical tools and putting them away.

Ianto glanced down at Gwen; she hadn't taken her eyes off of Jack. He smiled at the expression on her face, which was of rapt admiration in spite of her lingering anger at the Elizabeth woman – who was now fussing over Will as much as Gwen had been fussing over Ianto.

"If you're still worried about earlier," Ianto said softly, "don't be."

Gwen looked up at him sharply, and then relaxed because she didn't want to snap at him. "Which part from earlier?" she asked cheekily instead. "The part where I snogged you, or the part where you walked in on me naked with Jack in the shower?"

There was a clang from the other side of the room as Owen dropped the stainless steel tray he'd been carrying.

Neither Gwen nor Ianto looked up, though Gwen blushed. They both had a pretty good idea what Owen's face looked like right now.

Ianto said nothing, and said it eloquently, aware they had an audience.

"Wait a tick," Owen said striding up to them. "You snogged Ianto?"

Gwen turned around, already bristling with indignation. This was just not her night. She opened her mouth...and then shut it with a click when Ianto put his hand on her shoulder.

"You're right," she said a moment later to Owen's gob-smacked expression and Ianto's understanding one. "More important things to worry about right now." She turned back to watching Jack.

"_You_ snogged _Ianto?"_ Owen tried again.

"Leave it, Owen," Ianto said in that soft voice of his. It had taken on an edge that Gwen never heard from the Teaboy, a protective edge that was oddly comforting.

Still. She could see Tosh turning to stare at the scene that Owen was stirring up (and that was mostly her fault for even mentioning what had happened at _Cachu Iar_ in Owen's hearing). Jack's, Elizabeth's and Will Turner's attention had already been caught, and Gwen felt her cheeks going red at an alarming rate.

"They're having you on, Owen," Jack yelled jovially from across the Hub. "They both know better than to do something like that without me around to watch!"

Gwen laughed, but there was a bit of a frantic note that she hoped Owen wouldn't pick up on, or he'd never let her live it down.

"I _knew_ it couldn't be true," Owen said, turning back to his dropped surgical equipment. "Like _Gwen_ would snog _Ianto_."

Jack clapped twice then, getting everyone's attention. "Well," he said, "now that we're all back to reality – not that I don't appreciate a good bit of theatre," he added with a wink at Gwen, "Miss Swann has agreed to use the compass to locate our missing pirate Captain. We don't have long before the hole in the rift closes, or so Tosh informs me, so we'd better leave now. Owen, is Mr. Turner able to walk?"

"Good as new," Owen replied as he finished picking up the scattered surgical equipment. "Stitches are the dissolving sort," he added to Mr. Turner, "so leave them alone; they'll go away on their own."

"Good," Jack said. "Ianto, Gwen – you ready to come with me?"

Gwen and Ianto shared a quick look and then nodded.

"Good," Jack said again. "Tosh, Owen, guard the fort. Mr. Turner and Miss Swann…come with us. We're off to find your Captain Jack Sparrow."

Tosh nodded, moved back to her computer, and tapped a few commands out on the keyboard. Owen came up from the autopsy bay for a brief moment to enter the results of his examination – and scan – of Will Turner into the computer…

Too late, Tosh remembered what they'd been looking at on Owen's computer before the rift had taken their attention way from them. She hoped that Owen had closed it. She opened her mouth to warn him, to say something that would distract him to do _something_…

From the dead silence in the other part of the Hub, she knew she'd missed her chance. Owen hadn't closed the image of Gwen and Jack playing naked Twister, or whatever it was they were doing. She could practically feel Gwen blushing from where she stood. She turned slowly, and tried to feign surprise and shock. She managed guilt easily enough.

Jack paused on his way to the cog-door and glanced at the computer. "Not my best angle," he said brightly. "Let's go." He continued on.

Gwen glared at Owen. Owen looked mildly embarrassed, and then defensive. He seemed about to say something, and then thought better of it and stalked back to the autopsy bay, white lab coat fluttering behind him.

"Now!" Jack called back through the cog-shaped door.

Gwen and Ianto had no choice but to follow.

* * *

Captain Sparrow had, at some point, realized that the world had gone and misplaced itself again.

He always knew where he was, and therefore was never lost, but the world itself often forgot where it had left itself, and so he was waiting for someone to look under the proverbial couch cushions until it could be located.

So, alone in a strange and wonderful city in the midst of a terrible thunderstorm – and aware that this wasn't his cup of anything – he'd headed for the first shelter he thought of: an abandoned pub.

Of course, the pub wasn't abandoned it was merely closed for the night.

Semantics.

After he'd picked the lock and gotten himself inside, he'd found himself faced with an impressive array of rum and fine whiskey and other sorts of booze he'd never even heard of. He therefore tossed any and all worries about getting back to the _Pearl_ and his own time to Davy Jones and decided he felt like a kid on Christmas must feel if thirty years old, somewhat alcoholic, and alone in a bar.

Various bottles ended up in various pockets about his person. He started in on the first bottle of rum he came to after that, and then the next, for he had a terrible thirst to quench. Very soon he had a bottle in each hand and had begun to sing "Drink Up Me Hearties" to the empty bar when the door burst in off its hinges and Elizabeth Swann bore down on him like an avenging sea goddess – or a very pissed, drowned rat. Either or.

"'Liz'beth!" Captain Sparrow slurred, even more than usual. He swayed where he stood and gestured expressively. "Ye've come. I's got ye' a bot'le a rum. We can share. Lot's a bot'les. Not so good as what yon chair-tosser's got 'is dear sweet Gran makin' fer 'im, but it'll do. Will! I might've known you'd be behind this. Oh! It's the _other_ Captain Jack. Not right, there bein' two." He completed this attempt at speech with a deep swig from the bottle of rum in his right hand.

Jack, Gwen and Ianto stood behind Elizabeth and Will and surveyed the destruction of the bar with grim faces. The only upside was that it wasn't a bar that any of them frequented, and so they wouldn't have to worry about the damage beyond civic duty.

"Tosh," Jack said, pressing a hand to his ear to activate the intercom. "We've found him. How's our hole in the rift doing?"

"_Getting smaller by the minute,_" Tosh replied.

"I hate to cut this reunion short," Jack said to the room at large, "but we've got a date with a rift in time and space, and we can't be late."

"Oh!" Captain Sparrow said, completely ignoring everything Jack had just said and catching sight of Gwen for the first time since the others had appeared. "Miss Cooper – Gwen!" He sauntered over and dropped a heavy, smelly arm over Gwen's shoulder. "What say you to a night on th' town? Court'sey o' me, 'course."

"I'd say you're drunk, Captain Sparrow," Gwen said dryly. "And I already have one Captain Jack to worry about."

"Really!" Captain Sparrow exclaimed, affronted. He removed his arm, turned and put down the bottles. "And can he do this, better than I?" His hands free, he began to twirl the ends of his moustache theatrically.

Gwen frowned.

The only thing that stopped Captain Sparrow from kissing Gwen for longer than he did was the fact that Jack took him down, American Football style.

* * *

It was, Captain Sparrow reflected later as he was dragged, hogtied, through the streets of Cardiff, not his best move.

Thankfully for his sense of dignity, they very quickly arrived where Will and Elizabeth had left the lifeboat that would take them back to the _Pearl_, and – hopefully, back to their own time. At any rate, they would be away from this weird city with its weird traveling boxes that didn't need horses and loud noises and smells of tar and pitch that blanketed everything, except when the sea wind washed it away.

He would miss the rum, though. It wasn't as strong as the stuff he usually drank, but it was definitely smoother.

There were three pirates waiting for them at the boat. Captain Sparrow recognized Gibbs and those two idiots from Barbossa's old crew. Never could remember what their names were. Not that he wanted to - one of them was so jaundiced that his eyeballs were perminately yellow, and the other was constantly picking at his wooden eye, which squeaked annoyingly whenever he did.

Muskets were drawn and torches waved about until it was explained that the reason that Captain Sparrow was bound was because of something stupid he'd done, not because they were all being taken hostage.

Ianto, who'd been carrying Captain Sparrow slung across his shoulders – again (though it seemed a life time since he'd carted the smelly pirate down to the interrogation room) – set him down and cut the ropes. The pirate looked around him peevishly as he stood, rubbing at his wrists and pulling the gag out of his mouth.

"A simple 'no' would have sufficed," he said, reflecting that it was lucky no one had smacked him in the face. Not that he probably didn't deserve it for one thing or another. He definitely didn't deserve having the other Captain Jack take all his rum away, though. No one deserved that.

The storm had finally begun to let up. Jack glanced at his wrist strap to check the time and barometric pressure and saw that it wasn't even three am yet. The early darkness of the storm had confused his sense of time. And that took effort.

He must have been distracted.

"_There's only a few minutes before the rift will close_," Tosh said through their earpieces. "_Jack, you've got to get them back on their ship and through before it does, or they'll be stuck here forever_."

"Ah," Jack replied. "The standard 'five-minutes-'till-the-end-of-the-universe-and-you-have-too-much-shit-to-do moment in an otherwise unpredictable evening. Thanks, Tosh." He glanced at Gwen, who was glaring at Captain Sparrow for 'taking liberties', as Elizabeth put it. "I knew it couldn't last. No worries, though, Torchwood's on it! All right, ye scallywags! Back to your ship!"

"Wait," Captain Sparrow said. "My compass."

Jack made a face.

"I've got it," Elizabeth said. She pulled the compass out of her pocket and tossed it to Captain Sparrow, who nabbed it expertly out of the air, opened it, and watched the needle spin. He grinned as it stopped, and pulled a hitherto unnoticed bottle of rum out of his pocket. He was not so sozzled that he missed the wistful looks on the three officers of Torchwood, however.

"I trust this compass led you in the right direction," he said, suddenly understanding the odd dynamic between his three captors. He grinned, and took a deep swig from his bottle of rum.

"I hope it will lead you as well as it did me," Jack replied formally. "Now get back to your ship, or you'll be stuck here forever."

"Of course." He bowed, snapped the compass shut with a click, put the rum back into his pocket, and climbed into the waiting boat. Elizabeth had already helped the wounded Will in, and the remainder of the pirate invasion force was climbing in after them. The last two in, one of whom had a wooden eye and the other a severe case of jaundice, pushed them off into the waves and wind and dwindling rain.

"Gwen Cooper, my darling," Captain Sparrow called back. "'Tis a pity we did not have the time we deserved!"

Gwen snorted, and waved back.

As the boat was rowed out to the waiting ship, Elizabeth tossed them a parting glance. It was clear that she was still annoyed about Gwen having shot Will in the leg, but there was understanding in that look too. It flickered from Gwen to Jack to Ianto and back again, and then down to Captain Sparrow and Will.

Gwen was suddenly sorry to see Elizabeth go. Finding someone else who understood would be difficult. There might never be another person who realized that the only way Jack could have one was to have the other.

Gwen wasn't the only one who caught Elizabeth's look. Jack put an arm each around Gwen and Ianto and pulled them in close and grinned at the retreating pirates. Gwen slipped her arm around his waist, and Ianto put a hand on his shoulder.

The boat dwindled into the darkness, though a flash of lightning soon showed them that it had reached the ship in the bay.

"Do you think…?" Gwen began, and then seemed unable to finish her sentence. Thankfully, Jack seemed to know what she was thinking.

"It's possible," he said, "though unlikely, given the time they're from. If you think a relationship like that is taboo _now_…" he trailed off and half shrugged.

"Then again," Ianto softly. "They are pirates."

Jack laughed, and kissed them both. "Very true."

The life boat was hauled aboard the larger ship in due time.

"_One minute_," Tosh said over the intercom as _The Black Pearl_ sailed across the bay and into the mists that awaited it.

"They're cutting it close," Gwen said. The others said nothing.

When, a minute and a half later, the mists vanished, there was no sign of the ship.

The three of them stood like that for some time, as the rain stopped and the wind lessened to the force of a normal wind off the bay.

"So!" Jack said loudly, breaking the silence. "I think it's time for Johnny Depp in tight pants. What about you?"

They laughed, and turned away from the bay.

* * *

The Johnny-Depp-In-Tight-Pants-Movie-Night had to wait, it turned out, for paperwork.

By the time _that_ was out of the way, and they'd made up credible excuses for why so much booze had gone missing (looters), and for why there'd been a pirate ship in the bay to start with, it was almost dawn. Jack offered to let Gwen and Ianto stay "at his place" again, but they both seemed to agree that it was best if they simply went home on their own.

So that was why, when Jack dropped her off, he'd given her a quick, chaste kiss on the forehead and a look that promised much, much more, and was why he waited until she was through the door before driving off to take Ianto home.

The sun was barely up over the horizon by the time Gwen opened her front door and dropped her purse in the hall. Her heart thudded in her chest. Rhys would likely be asleep. She wouldn't be surprised if she found blankets and a pillow piled in the hall, waiting for her, a silent rebuke against her behaviour earlier this evening.

The events of the evening still made her wince and blush, though she hadn't even had time to think of them in the past few hours. The fact that, in her attempts to elude her fiancé, she had made out with the _wrong_ man made it even worse. But she was thankful that Ianto had seemed to forgive her for it, even if it meant that he was extra protective of her now.

There was a raw steak on the counter, resting on a plate in a puddle of its own blood and melted ice water. Gwen frowned at it before she realized that Rhys had pulled it out for her to cook when she got home. She put it in the 'fridge on her way past, and then continued down the hall to her room.

There weren't any blankets or pillows waiting for her in the hall; a good sign. She opened the door.

The bed hadn't been slept in.

Not a good sign.

"Rhys?" she called out, though she already knew that her call would not be answered. If he hadn't been asleep on the couch waiting for her, or in bed waiting for her, he had obviously not come home. So he was still angry with her. Damn it. She was so damned tired…

Still, she headed for her purse and her cell phone. Maybe he hadn't made it home through the storm last night. She should call him, make sure he was alright…

Halfway through the flat, she realized that something was missing. That lived-in feel was gone.

So were most of Rhys' things.

"Rhys?" she called out again, though she knew what had happened now. He _had_ come home: to get his things. And then he'd gone again.

He'd left.

She sat down heavily in the middle of the floor, shock causing her to go numb.

Rhys had actually left her. She hadn't even had a chance to explain, to convince him to stay, to…

Who was she kidding? He'd left because she'd gone chasing after a pirate with Jack and Ianto. He'd probably thought that she'd left him…and she had…she was going to anyway, eventually, but, she'd wanted to make a go of it, to try harder for him…

No she hadn't. Her thoughts weren't making any sense. Half of her had wanted to hold onto the familiarity that was Rhys, as much for Jack as for herself. The other half had willed the abandonment of normalcy in favour for the thrill and excitement of Jack's life…

How long had she sat there, now? She couldn't tell. The sunlight through the window was much stronger than it had been…

There was a note addressed to her on the coffee table. She didn't have the energy to pick it up, even if she could have made it there. She was fairly certain she knew what it said, though.

Her hands groped for her cell phone. She needed someone to talk to about this. Needed someone to explain what was going on in her mind. She pulled up her list of contacts. She knew who she needed to call.

* * *

He'd been asleep when she'd called, but he came anyway. She buzzed him up, and moments later he was knocking on the door.

"Ianto," she said when she pulled the door open. He was, for once, not wearing a suit. Jeans, and a Tool hoodie. They still managed to suit him, even with his bleary, red-rimmed eyes.

"You look awful," he said.

She managed a laugh, but it was harsh. Self consciously, she raised a hand to her face. She'd scrubbed hard to wash away the evidence that she'd been crying. Apparently, she'd failed. She moved back from the door, and Ianto came in.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," she said, but it was a reflexive comment, void of actual meaning. Apart from several objects missing from the flat, everything was neat and tidy. Ianto merely shrugged.

"And I'm sorry for calling you like this," Gwen said for the fourth or fifth time since she'd dialed his number. "I just…"

"I know," Ianto said. "It's okay. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Without warning, he gave her a hug. It was what she needed. She sighed, and relaxed, and Ianto didn't even complain when her tears starting to seep through his shirt.

* * *

When Jack received Ianto's text message (that Rhys had left, Gwen was in the midst of an emotional crisis, that he – Ianto – was handling it and that Jack was not to come), his first thought was to get in the SUV and drive hell bent across town to her flat, take Gwen in his arms, and celebrate.

His second thought was that this probably wouldn't have the desired outcome; she might not be in a celebratory mood.

Well, obviously she wasn't, if she was having an emotional crisis. He shook his head.

His third thought was that he should hop in the SUV and drive hell bent across town to her flat, take her in his arms and _console_ her. This might have the desired outcome because she was probably in need of the sort of consoling that he was best suited to give.

Then again…she might hate him for being the symbol of her lost normalcy, so that might not work at all.

All of this agonizing was, of course, Ianto's goal in sending the message in the first place, and if Jack knew how easily he could be manipulated over something like this, he would probably have had a small fit.

For now, he remained blissfully ignorant of that fact, and – after an hour or three of emotional agony of his own – he hopped in the SUV and drove hell bent across town to Gwen's flat.

The front door was unlocked, by the time he reached it. Not the door that needed to be opened from the flat itself with the buzzer - that a nice young man with a very nice behind opened for him. Jack smiled at him as he went past, and the man blushed. Any other time, Jack though wistfully, he might have gone for it. Not this time. Gwen was hurting.

Jack let himself into the flat, stepping softly. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be noticed yet. He rounded the corner into the living room, and stopped.

Gwen and Ianto were curled up together on the couch, each wrapped in throw blankets, both fully clothed, and both dead to the world. Two cups of tea – spiked with moonshine, if the smell was anything to go by, even from here – were on the coffee table. Next to a note that was addressed to Gwen.

The note was unopened, and delightfully tempting. Jack already had a pretty good idea what it said, but that didn't stop him from wanting to read it. He ignored it for the time being, though.

The sight of Gwen and Ianto asleep on the couch was so adorable that it made him wish for his camera. He also wasn't sure what to do; Gwen he could lift easily and move her to her bed, but Ianto would likely stir if Jack tried to sling him across his shoulders, and both of them needed their rest.

In the end, he hefted Gwen up into his arms, as he had a couple of nights ago, and carried her easily into her room. After he'd gotten her comfortable and under the covers, he brushed her hair from her eyes and kissed the top of her head gently. She sighed in her sleep, and slipped further into dreams.

Ianto he stretched out on the couch with some pillows and a blanket or two. He noted with appreciation the delightful sight of Ianto's legs encased in jeans – not something he saw often – and decided that he would have to have more dress-down weekdays during the month.

When he'd gotten them comfortable, he was at a loss. Just what was he supposed to do with himself now? The objects of his affection were asleep, he didn't have the compass to tell him where to go next, and the adventure was over.

Rhys' note beckoned him.

He ignored it, and wandered back into Gwen's room to watch her sleep instead. She offered the same amount of temptation, but was much more fun to watch.

* * *

When Gwen woke several hours later, it was to the smell of cooking steak and a darkened room. The sun had gone down at some point while she slept, which was fine with her since they seemed to do most of their work at night anyway. Rhys should be home from work by now, she thought, he was probably making her dinner…

With the realization that Rhys had left came a sharp stab of pain in her heart. Tears flooded her eyes. However much she told herself that she'd been going to leave anyway, and that Ianto had been right, earlier, when he'd said it was better to let Rhys go rather than tie him to a life – and marriage – that she couldn't fully commit to, it still hurt that he'd left. It would probably always hurt, and the sooner she admitted that she was human and that it _should_ hurt when you were rejected, the sooner she could get on with her life.

Not that this mental pep-talk worked, of course.

She could hear voices from her kitchen. Ianto, laughing softly. And Jack.

There was a yelp and a clatter of plates and then Jack scolding Ianto gently for not watching the element, and before Gwen even realized it she was standing in the kitchen watching Ianto trying to fit the whole of his burned hand into his mouth.

Jack was wearing the joke apron that Rhys had bought her when they'd first started living together. It was pink, and had frills on it. His hand was still on Ianto's backside, and was no doubt the ultimate reason for Ianto's burned hand.

Jack and Ianto turned and took in her rumpled appearance and blotchy eyes. They smiled tentatively at her. And then her eyes began to tear up again, and Jack was across the room and holding her in his arms – properly this time – before the first tear went down her cheek.

This reminded her sharply of yesternight's Shower Incident, only the frilly pink apron was a little off-putting.

Ianto went back to trying to get the steak out of the oven, though this was largely calculated to give Jack and Gwen a little bit of privacy.

"Jack," Gwen began, but Jack shushed her.

They were silent for a few minutes.

"No, really," she tried again.

He leaned back and tilted her chin up towards him.

"I'm ready when you are," he said simply. "Always."

And then, with slow deliberateness, he leaned in and gave her plenty of time to back away. She didn't. And because she didn't, Jack finally got to kiss her properly.

Gwen quickly realized – as her toes curled and her fingers wrapped themselves in Jack's hair, and she lost herself to the wonderment of Jack's skill – that even if it were for a day, a month, a year, an _instant_…even if it was just this once, that she willed herself to Jack with all the force of her heart…

It was worth it.

* * *

A/N: Wow...that was a journey and a half, eh? Sweet Jebebus...more than a year...

Ianto's clothes in his scene with Gwen are for the sake of everyone who watched his segment in Fragments and wanted to send Mr. Davies a petition to make him put Ianto in tight jeans more often (or in no jeans at all…we aren't picky). Hope you enjoyed.

I'm also really, really glad that all of you liked my story. I want to thank all of you, for reading, reviewing and sticking with me even as my update intervals got longer and longer and longer…

So…in no real order, and from the bottom of my heart...

**Kateg123, Crazy Psycho Book Freak, PassionPoet, Starlite1, Outlaw of Sherwood, MusicIsLife-x, Ithilian, emelye14283, Mini Librarian, alizaleven, MythStar Black Dragon, Lady Clark-Weasley of Books, JoSchmo666, Kazz the 13****th****, GossipGirl17, LilMissSugarPlumFairy, Koochielala, Pandora of Ithilien, I've Lost My Profile Page, Aanaa, Remote Control Princess, Terriah, Lutherian, Skly, kira66, starry-eyed-torchwood-lover, Itchigo, Insert Witty Name Here, LadyAJ, BobbiRae, Jessa7, Nerwen Nenharma, CarzyforTorchwood, hotflower901, uno rouge, OneWhoSitsWithTheTurtles, shadowxwolf, crazedchick, Perfect Pirate Captain, 382, phoebemoon, snarkyrabidsquirrel, pinkalarmclock, TheEternalPixie, Scousedancer, Adeline ambition, Diamondsshine4ever, Lyridium, DEFiiANCE, tvnut89, Section8grl, ImpNo1, Mini Librarian, The Wordless Epoch, kdorian, OrionTheHunter, xxXxGracieyCullenHarknessxXxx, Waylee, Jaby, general zargon…**

**And to everyone who ever read this, even if you didn't review, or didn't like it…**

**Thank you, thank you thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!**

(and yes, that's one 'thank you' for every review I've gotten thus far. See you round! ;)


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